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(Haxmll Intufrattg ICtbrarg 
 
 Stifaca, Nrai ^arfe 
 
 THE CELTIC LIBRARY 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 CLARK SUTHERLAND NORTHUP 
 
 CLASS OP 1893 
 
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 Cornell University Library 
 PR 5039.M82A3 
 
 11 
 
 According to Plato. 
 
 Ill 
 
 III I 
 
 3 1924 013 525 963 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of tliis bool< is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013525963 
 
ACCORDING TO PLATO 
 
FRANKFORT MOORE'S 
 POPULAR NOVELS . 
 
 Each in cloth gilt 6s. 
 
 1 FORBID THE BANNS 
 THEY CALL IT LOVE 
 PHYLLIS OF PHILISTIA 
 A GRAY EYE OR SO 
 THE JESSAMY BRIDE 
 DAIREEN 
 
 ONE FAIR DAUGHTER 
 THE MILLIONAIRES 
 THE FATAL GIFT 
 WELL AFTER ALL 
 
 London : HUTCHINSON & CO 
 Paternoster Row 
 
ACCORDING TO 
 
 PLATO. By FRANK 
 FRANKFORT MOORE • 
 
 Author of " I FORBID THE BANNS," 
 
 "y/ GRAY ere or so," ^'ONE 
 
 FAIR DAUGHT€R;' "THE JSSSAMT 
 BRIDE," ^'THer CALL IT LOFS," 
 
 ^ 
 
 London: HUTCHINSON ^ CO 
 
 'Paternoster Row 
 1901 
 
PRINTED BY / 
 
 HAZELL, WATSON, AND VtNEY", LD, 
 LONDON AND AYLESBURY* 
 
ACCORDING TO PLATO 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 " "XT O one who has not been bankrupt at least 
 ■*■ ^ twice could afford to be so careful about 
 his dress as Mr. Richmond is," said Josephine. 
 
 " He admits a solitary bankruptcy," said Amber. 
 " Bankruptcy is the official recognition of genius." 
 
 "It certainly is the shortest way to distinction," 
 said Josephine. "Bankruptcy's a sort of English 
 Legion of Honour, isn't it — a kind of bourgeois 
 decoration ? " 
 
 "To genius," said Amber, with the nod of one 
 who completes a quotation that some one else has 
 begun. "Mr. Richmond is really very clever." 
 
 "Now you contradict yourself. A moment ago 
 you said he was a genius, and being a genius is just 
 the opposite to being clever," laughed Josephine. " Is 
 this your syllogism — geniuses become bankrupt ; 
 Mr. Richmond becomes bankrupt, therefore he is a 
 genius ? " 
 
 I 
 
2 According to Plato 
 
 " Well, that wasn't quite what was in my mind. 
 I suppose that to have the Homeric attribute of 
 nodding scarcely makes one a Homer ? " 
 
 " If it did there would be no need for people to 
 learn Greek. But you must forgive me for dis- 
 trusting your Mr. Richmond. No, I shouldn't make 
 use of so strong a word — I don't distrust him. What 
 I mean to say is that I am rarely convinced by 
 a man who is so scrupulous about his coats. Genius 
 — in man — is rarely found in association with silk 
 linings where silk linings are not imperative." 
 
 " Now you are becoming commonplace, my dear 
 Joe. You give one the idea that you cannot 
 imagine genius without a darn. A darn — maybe a 
 patch — and a soft hat have floated many a medio- 
 crity upon the public under the name of a genius. 
 But brains can work just as actively within the 
 drum of a silk hat as within the bowl of a bowler." 
 
 "Just as a true heart may beat beneath a silk 
 lining as fervently as under a moleskin waistcoat. 
 Yes ; I have heard something like that before. Was 
 it in a comic opera? Well, I'll approach Mr. 
 Richmond with an open mind. After all, it's only 
 a universal genius who is a man that has failed 
 in everything, and no man has yet hinted that Mr. 
 Richmond is a universal genius. By the way, I 
 heard of an adroit Irishman who got a great name 
 as a poet, solely by reason of his wearing an old 
 cloak and turning up at awkward hours for dinner." 
 
According to Plato 3 
 
 " Mr. Richmond is — well, perhaps I had better 
 say a bit of a genius." 
 
 " That sounds more companionable. I like the 
 nodding of Homer — it makes him more human." 
 
 " If you wish, I'll withdraw the genius altogether 
 and merely say that he is a man of ideas." 
 
 " I think I shall like him. A man of ideas is a 
 man of ideals. I am nearly sure that I shall like 
 him. There must be something good about a man 
 who can be praised by his friends in diminuendo." 
 
 " In diminuendo ? Oh, I understand. Yes, I 
 began by calling him a man of genius, and now 
 I am perfectly satisfied to hear you say that you 
 think you will like him. Well, that's not a crescendo 
 of praise, anyhow. Oh, really, he's not half a bad 
 sort of man when you come to know him." 
 
 " Now you are becoming crescendo, my Amber. 
 One only says of the best men what you have said 
 of Mr. Richmond. I know that it represents the 
 flood-tide of one man's praise of another. Person- 
 ally, I don't see why the papers should have made 
 such fun of Mr. Richmond." 
 
 " Oh, my dear Joe, that wasn't his doing, believe 
 me. Oh no ! that was Willie Bateman's idea. 
 He's becoming the great authority on advertising, 
 you know. Yes, he said that you can ridicule 
 any man into success." 
 
 " I fancy he's not far wrong in that. You 
 remember the horrid man who got on — for a time 
 
4 According to Plato 
 
 — by pretending that he was the original of one 
 of Mr. du Maurier's pictures in Punch ? " 
 
 " I have heard of him. He was a sort of painter, 
 only he had a habit of dabbing in the eyes outside 
 the face. Mr. Richmond is not an impostor, how- 
 ever ; he is only a theorist." 
 
 " Now you are hair-splitting, Amber, the Sophist." 
 
 Amber frowned, and then laughed freely, 
 graciously — not the laugh of Ananias and Sapphira 
 his wife, who kept back part of their possessions. 
 
 " Well, I admit that — no, I admit nothing. I 
 say that Mr. Richmond deserves to succeed on 
 his own merits, and that he would succeed even 
 without being ridiculed in the papers. His theories 
 are thoroughly scientific — papa admits so much." 
 
 " He not only admits the theorist, but the 
 theories as well, into his house. And yet Sir 
 Creighton is a practical man." 
 
 " And a scientific man. It is because Mr. Rich- 
 mond works on such a scientific basis, and in 
 such a practical manner, we are so anxious to do 
 all we can for him. Why shouldn't there be a 
 Technical School of Literature, as well as one of 
 wool-combing, or one of dyeing, or one of turning ? " 
 
 " Why shouldn't there be one ? You have reason 
 and analogy on your side. I suppose it needs quite 
 as much skill to turn a sonnet as to turn a sofa-leg, 
 and yet it is thought necessary to serve an apprentice- 
 ship to the one industry and not to the other." 
 
According to Plato 5 
 
 " That's exactly what I say — exactly what Mr. 
 Richmond says. He once edited a magazine, and 
 he would have made it pay, too, if the people 
 who wrote for him had been able to write. But 
 they were not. It was reading the fearful stuff he 
 used to get by every post that caused him to think of 
 the great need there was for a Technical School 
 of Literature. Now, suppose you want to write a 
 history of any period, how would you set about it ? " 
 
 " I haven't the remotest idea of writing a history 
 of even the remotest period. Amber." 
 
 "Yes, that's because you are unfortunate enough 
 to be the daughter of so wealthy a man as Mr. 
 West, the Under-Secretary for the Arbitration 
 Department. You have no need to do anything 
 for a living — to do anything to distinguish yourself 
 in the world. But take the case that you were 
 dependent upon writing histories of certain periods 
 for your daily bread ; wouldn't you like to have 
 some place to go to in order to learn the techni- 
 calities of history-writing ? '' 
 
 " There's no doubt in my mind that I would. 
 The writing of histories of periods has long ago 
 been placed among the ^reat industries of the 
 country, I know." 
 
 " I was appalled the other day when I began 
 to think how utterly at sea I should be if I had 
 to write a history, or, for that matter, a biography ; 
 and history and biography, mind you, are the 
 
6 According to Plato 
 
 branches that do not need any imagination for 
 their working up." 
 
 "Oh, do they not?" 
 
 " Well, perhaps ... but I mean that if one 
 has to write a play " 
 
 " What ! is there a play department too ? What 
 on earth have plays got to do with literature ? " 
 
 "The connection just now is faint enough, I 
 admit. And why — why, I ask ? " 
 
 " Let me guess. Is it because up to the present 
 there has not been a Technical School of Literature ? " 
 
 "Of course it is. But at one time plays formed 
 a very important part of the literature of the day." 
 
 " Undoubtedly. The author of Shakespere's plays, 
 whoever he was, was certainly a literary man. I 
 wonder, by the way, if there was a Technical School 
 in his time ? " 
 
 " There wa.sn't. That's how it comes that he 
 knew so little about the technicalities of the modern 
 stage. Take my word for it, Josephine, Mr. Rich- 
 mond will prevent the possibility of a recurrence 
 of such mistakes as those Shakespere made. And 
 then there are the departments of fiction and poetry. 
 Could anything be worse than the attempts at 
 fiction and poetry which one meets nowadays ? " 
 
 " Impossible, I admit." 
 
 " The poor things who make these poor attempts 
 are really not to be blamed. If they were set 
 down to make a pair of boots, should any one 
 
According to Plato 7 
 
 blame them if they failed ? Now I hear it said 
 that there is no market for poetry in these days. 
 I don't believe it." 
 
 " I believe that if a paper pattern were to be given 
 away with every volume, the public would buy as 
 many volumes of poetry as could be printed, if only 
 the patterns were of a high class." 
 
 " The public would buy poetry if a first-class 
 article were offered to them ; but as only one first- 
 class volume appears for every five hundred of a 
 second-class or a third-class, or no class at all, the 
 public are content to go mad over the merest 
 doggerel, provided it is technically good doggerel." 
 
 " Mr. Richmond will guarantee that his third- 
 year pupils will turn out good doggerel, I'm sure. 
 And what department do you mean to graduate in, 
 my Amber ? " 
 
 Amber paused before replying. A line — a 
 delicate little crayon line — appeared across her 
 forehead, suggesting earnest thought, as she said : 
 
 " I have a great hope to graduate in every 
 department. But I think for the present I shall 
 confine myself to the ' Answers to Correspondents.' " 
 
 " Oh, the school is actually so technical as that ? " 
 cried Josephine. 
 
 " It is nothing if not practical, Joe ; and I think" 
 you will agree with Mr. Richmond that there's no 
 branch of magazine literature that requires to be 
 more practical than the ' Answers to Correspondents.' 
 
8 According to Plato 
 
 The 'Aunt Dorothy' branch is also one that 
 demands considerable technical skill to be exercised, 
 if it is to be done properly. Mr. Richmond thinks 
 I might begin upon the Aunt Dorothy branch and 
 work my way up to the true Petrarchian Sonnet 
 Department, through the Rondel, Rondeau, Villanelle, 
 and Triolet classes." 
 
 " It's a far cry from Aunt Dorothy to Petrarch. And 
 pray what does Mr. Galmyn think of the scheme ? " 
 
 " He wasn't very enthusiastic at first, but I fancy 
 that I have persuaded him to look at it in its 
 true light. But, you see, being a poet, he is hardly 
 open to reason." 
 
 " That is what it is to be a poet. A poet does not 
 reason ; he sings. And has Mr. Overton any ideas 
 on the subject ? He cannot be accused of singing." 
 
 " He has an open mind, he says." 
 
 " Oh, a man with an open mind is just as 
 disagreeable as a man without prejudices. And 
 Willie Bateman — ah, I forgot ; you said that he 
 had something to do with pushing the school ? " 
 
 " Yes ; he took care that the scheme was properly 
 ridiculed in the papers. Oh yes, he has been 
 extremely useful to us." 
 
 " What ! you have actually come to talk of the 
 school as ' us ' ? I had no idea that you meant to hang 
 up the scalp of this Mr. Richmond in your wigwam." 
 
 " I do not even want his scalpet, Josephine ; at 
 the same time ■" 
 
According to Plato 9 
 
 " I see, you don't want his scalp, but if he 
 insists on sending you a tuft of his hair, you will 
 not return it to him." 
 
 " Well, perhaps that is what is in my mind. 
 Though, really, I am sincerely anxious to see what 
 will come of so daring, and, at the same time, so 
 scientific an experiment." 
 
 " You are a child of science, and to be a child of 
 science is to be the parent of experiments. It was 
 a child of science who modelled toys in dynamite, 
 was it not ? Pretty little clay pigs, and elephants, 
 and poets, and millionaires ; but one day she 
 thought she would try the experiment of putting a 
 light to the cigar that she had stuck into the mouth 
 of the dynamite figure that she was playing with." 
 
 " And what happened ? " 
 
 " Let me think. Oh, nothing happened, because 
 a live man appeared on the scene, and quickly 
 dropped all the little toys of the scientific little girl 
 into a bucket of water." 
 
 "And then?" 
 
 " Well, then the scientific little girl cried for a 
 while, but when she grew up she married the live 
 little man, and they lived happily ever after." 
 
 Amber was blushing like a peony before her 
 friend had finished her parable. When Josephine 
 had begun to speak, Amber was beginning to fold 
 her serviette, and now she continued folding it as 
 if she were endeavouring to carry out one of the 
 
lo According to Plato 
 
 laborious designs of napkin-folding given in the 
 Ladies' Column of some weekly paper. Suddenly, 
 while her friend watched her, she pulled the damask 
 square out of its many folds, and tossed its crumpled 
 remains on the tablecloth. 
 
 " Psha ! " she cried, " there's not a grain of 
 dynamite among all my little boys." 
 
 " Is there not ? You just ask your father to give 
 you an analysis of any little boy, and you'll find that 
 the result will be something like this — " 
 
 She wrote with her chatelaine pencil on the back 
 of the menu- card : 
 
 Self-esteem 
 
 8-oo^ 
 
 
 Curiosity 
 
 5-00 
 
 
 Desire to cut the others out ... 
 
 1200 
 
 Analysis of the 
 
 Explosive matter temporarily 
 
 
 - Father to the 
 
 held in solution 
 
 75-00 
 
 Man. 
 
 lOO'OO^ 
 
 Amber read the card with blushes and laughter. 
 
 " It's very good fun," she said. " And there is 
 my motor at the door. You will come with me 
 and see how things are managed ? " 
 
 "Why should I go?" 
 
 " Why should you not go ? " 
 
 " Oh, I'll go. Whatever it may be, it is still a 
 topic." 
 
 " It is much more than a topic, it is a revolution." 
 
 " Then I shall go, if only to see it revolve." 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 ' I "HE two girls left Sir Creighton Severn's house 
 -■- in Kensington Palace Gardens, and the dainty 
 little motor-victoria made its way eastward under 
 the skilful guidance of a young coachman-engineer 
 trained by Sir Creighton himself. 
 
 Every one has heard of Sir Creighton Severn, the 
 great inventor. A large number of people, if asked 
 what Sir Creighton had invented, would reply " Elec- 
 tricity," so closely has his name become associated 
 with the development of this power and its adapta- 
 tion to the various necessities of modern life. 
 
 Some time ago there was a general feeling 
 throughout the country that he had gone quite far 
 enough in this direction. There should surely be a 
 limit, people said, to the many humiliations to which 
 scientific men were subjecting that power, which after 
 all was nothing less than lightning made captive, 
 and, under that name, the most imposing attribute 
 of great Jove himself It was not so bad to ask it to 
 light a well-appointed drawing-room or to annihilate 
 distance when applied to the end of a few thousand 
 miles of telegraph cable — there was a heroic aspect of 
 its employment in such ways ; there was something 
 
12 According to Plato 
 
 of the dignity of an international treaty in the relation- 
 ship existing between civilisation and electricity up 
 to a certain point ; but it was going quite too far to 
 set it to cook chump chops for the servants' dinner, 
 or to heat the irons in the laundry. 
 
 People began to feel for electricity, just as they 
 did for King Alfred when they heard the story of 
 his being in the swineherd's cottage. If the nations 
 had ceased to offer oblations to the leaven of Jove, 
 that was no reason why it should be degraded 
 to the level of a very scullion. 
 
 But when Sir Creighton, after inventing the 
 electric kitchener, and the electric ironer, brought 
 out an electric knife-cleaner, an electric boot-black, 
 and an electric mousetrap — nay, when he destroyed 
 the very blackbeetles in the kitchen by electricity, 
 people ceased to protest. They only shook their 
 heads and said no good could come of such things. 
 
 Of course, these adaptations of the power of which 
 Sir Creighton was looked upon as the legitimate 
 owner in succession to Jupiter (deceased) represented 
 only his hours of relaxation. They were the glean- 
 ings, so to speak, of his electric harvest — the heel- 
 taps of his electric banquet ; they only brought him 
 in about ten thousand a year in royalties. The 
 really great adaptations for which he was respon- 
 sible filled the world with admiration and his own 
 pockets with money. He had lived so long in 
 close association with electricity that he had come 
 
According to Plato 13 
 
 to know every little phase of its nature, just as a 
 man — after thirty years or so of married life — comes 
 to have an inkling of his wife's character. He had 
 invented the electric ship that picked up broken 
 cables at sea by merely passing over where they 
 were laid. He had invented the air-purifier, which 
 instantly destroyed every injurious element in the 
 atmosphere of large manufacturing towns, making 
 them as pleasant to live in as London itself He 
 had also produced a fog-disperser ; but he was not 
 sufficiently satisfied with its operation to place it before 
 the public. It was quite equal to the duty of giving 
 fresh air and sunshine to his own house and gardens, 
 at times when people outside were choking with 
 sulphur and knocking their heads against lamp-posts ; 
 but this was not enough for Sir Creighton, and he 
 withheld his discovery until he should have so per- 
 fected it as to make it applicable to the widest areas. 
 
 He had sufficient confidence in his powers and in 
 the ductility of his partner — he had long ago come 
 to allude to electricity as \v\s conjiix placens — to feel 
 certain that in the course of a year or two he would 
 be in a position to clear the Atlantic Ocean of fogs, 
 and even to do something with Bloomsbury itself 
 
 But there was another discovery which Sir 
 Creighton hoped he was on the eve of perfecting — 
 the greatest of all the long list already standing to 
 his credit — this was the Electric Digester. He had 
 proved to the satisfaction of every one except himself 
 
14 According to Plato 
 
 the possibility of treating not only flesh meat, but 
 every form of diet, in such a way as practically to 
 obviate the necessity for its undergoing the various 
 tedious processes of digestion before being assimilated 
 with the system. 
 
 He had early in life become impressed with the 
 need for makirjg a departure from the old-fashioned 
 methods of preparing food for human consumption. 
 In the early days of man — he put the date roughly 
 at 150,000 B.C., though he admitted that the recent 
 discovery of a fossil scorpion left him about a million 
 years to come and go upon — there was probably 
 no need for an Artificial Digester. The early man 
 had plenty of exercise. It is quite conceivable that, 
 with such things as the Mammoth, the Mastodon, the 
 Pterodactyl, and the Ichthyosaurus roaming about 
 with empty stomachs, the human race should have 
 a good deal of exercise (scoffers said that the human 
 race was properly so called). But the human race 
 had won the race, and had then settled down for 
 a period of well-earned repose. 
 
 This was all very well, but their doing so had 
 changed the most important of the conditions 
 under which they had lived, until, as civilisation 
 strengthened, the human digestion had weakened. 
 But, instead of openly admitting this fact and 
 acting accordingly, physicians had kept trying to 
 tinker up the obsolete machinery, with, naturally, 
 the most deplorable results. Instead of frankly 
 
According to Plato 15 
 
 acknowledging that man's digestion had gone the 
 way of the tail, the appendix stomach, and the 
 muscle that moved the ears, attempts were daily- 
 made to stimulate the obsolete processes of digestion. 
 
 The result was not stimulating. 
 
 Sir Creighton Severn, however, frankly assumed 
 that man had got rid of his digestion to make way 
 for his civilisation, and set about the task of accom- 
 modating his diet to his altered conditions of life. 
 
 He had not yet succeeded in satisfying himself 
 that his invention of the Electric Digester would 
 do all that he meant it to do ; so, in spite of the 
 bitter cry that came from the great pie regions 
 of North America, imploring him to help them, 
 he withheld it from the world for the present. 
 
 Sir Creighton was wise enough to make a fool of 
 himself every now and again, and the fools said, 
 in their haste, that his daughter was the agency 
 which he usually employed for effecting his purpose 
 in this direction. But while some said that it was 
 his daughter who made a fool of him, others said 
 that it was he who made a fool of his daughter. No 
 one seemed to fancy that it was quite possible for 
 both statements to be correct. 
 
 However this may be, it may at once be said 
 that Sir Creighton treated his daughter as if she 
 were a rational person, capable of thinking for 
 herself, and of pronouncing a moderately accurate 
 judgment on such minor problems of life as were 
 
1 6 According to Plato 
 
 suggested to her. Without knowing why — though 
 her father could have told her all about it — she 
 was most pleased when she was trying certain 
 experiments — not in electricity, but in sociology. 
 
 And yet people said, simply because they saw 
 that she was invariably well dressed, that she had 
 no scientific tendencies. 
 
 She had a certain indefinite beauty of her own 
 that made people, some people, mostly men — 
 wonder where they had seen a flower like her — a 
 lily, they were nearly sure it was, or perhaps it was 
 a white clematis — the one with the star centre that 
 swings so gracefully. They continued looking at her 
 and thinking of flowers ; and happy is the girl who 
 makes people think of flowers when they see her ! 
 
 Having very few delusions, she knew that there 
 was something of a flower about her nature. And 
 being well aware that flowers are the most practical 
 things in Nature, she had aspirations as boundless 
 as those of a lily. 
 
 That was why she was delighted when she 
 attracted to her various forms of idle insect life, 
 male and female. Her aspirations were to attract 
 rather than to retain, for she had the lily's instincts 
 as well as the lily's industry. She knew that when 
 youth made a bee-line to her (speaking in a phrase 
 of the garden) they did so for their own advantage. 
 And she awaited their departure with interest, 
 knowing, as she did, that it is when the insect 
 
According to Plato 17 
 
 leaves the lily that the latter is most benefited ; but 
 without prejudice to the possibilities of the insect 
 being also benefited. She had no sympathy with the 
 insectivorous plants of womankind, though at the 
 same time she knew that she was born with a 
 passion for experiments. She hoped, however, that 
 her curiosity was founded on a scientific basis. 
 
 She had, as it were, taken Love into her father's 
 laboratory, and, with his assistance, subjected it 
 to the most careful analysis. She was able to 
 assign to it a chemical symbol, and so she fancied 
 that she knew all there was to be known about Love. 
 
 She knew a good deal less about it than does the 
 flower of the lily when the summer is at its height. 
 
 And now this offspring of the most modern spirit 
 of investigation and the most ancient femininity 
 that existed before the scorpion found his way 
 into the Silurian rocks, to sting, after the lapse of 
 a hundred thousand years, the biologists who had 
 pinned their faith to a theory, — this blend of the 
 perfume of the lily and the fumes of hydrochlorate 
 of potassium, — was chatting to her friend Josephine 
 West while her motor-victoria threaded its silent 
 way through the traffic of Oxford Street to that 
 region where Mr. Richmond had established his 
 Technical School of Literature. 
 
 Josephine West was the daughter of the Right 
 Honourable Joseph West, Under-Secretary of State 
 for the Department of Arbitration. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 npHE "forced draught" form of conversation — ■ 
 -*- the phrase was Sir Creighton's — which the 
 two girls exchanged at lunch, and which has been 
 in some measure recorded, formed excellent ex- 
 ercise for their wits, Sir Creighton thought, though 
 he had not the privilege of listening to their latest 
 triple expansion in this direction, the fact being 
 that he and Lady Severn were partaking of a more 
 exciting meal aboard the new electric continuous 
 keel-propeller yacht which Sir Creighton had just 
 perfected. It was certainly a stimulating reflection 
 that for the first time since the waters were spread 
 over a portion of the surface of the earth, a meal was 
 partaken of in comfort aboard a vessel moving at 
 the rate of fifty-two miles an hour. Even the con- 
 versation of the two girls in the dining-room at 
 home could scarcely beat that, Sir Creighton re- 
 marked to his wife as she clutched at her cap on the 
 hurricane deck and gasped. (There was a pretty fair 
 amount of cap-clutching and gasping aboard that boat 
 while it was flying over the measured mile.) 
 
 But when the girls were being motored to the 
 Technical School of Literature, their chat was of 
 
 i8 
 
According to Plato 19 
 
 such commonplaces as the new evening dress bodice 
 with the lace up to the throat, and the future of the 
 sleeve. They had not exhausted the latter question 
 when they arrived at the school. 
 
 It was located in an interesting house in Hanover 
 Square " for the present," Amber explained to her 
 friend ; and her friend cordially agreed with her 
 that it would be foolish to enter into possession of 
 an important building before the school had taken 
 a sure hold upon the affections of the people of 
 Great Britain. 
 
 Mr. Richmond was just opening the fiction class in 
 the largest room when Miss Severn and Miss West 
 entered. Mr. Richmond, who represented the latest 
 of Amber's experiments, had met Miss West a few 
 days before. He knew that her father was a 
 member of the Government, and he hoped to be able 
 to squeeze a grant out of the Government with his 
 assistance, therefore — the logic was Mr. Richmond's, 
 and thoroughly sound — he thought it well to pay 
 as little attention as was consistent with good 
 manners to Miss West, and even to her friend and 
 his friend. Miss Severn. He had a pretty fair 
 working knowledge of a world in which woman has 
 at all times played a rather prominent part, and he 
 knew that, while some young women are affected by 
 flattery, those who are most potent in getting grants 
 from their fathers in favour of certain enterprises 
 resent being singled out for attention. 
 
20 According to Plato 
 
 He paid no attention to the entrance of the two 
 girls, but began his lesson — he refused to make 
 use of the commonplace word " lecture " ; the mention 
 of such a word should be enough to frighten people 
 away from the school, he said ; and, on the same 
 principle, he chose to call his undertaking a school, 
 not a college. 
 
 Josephine and Amber took seats at one of the 
 desks, with paper and pens in front of them, and the 
 former glanced round the class. It was composed of 
 some interesting units. At a desk well to the front 
 sat, bolt upright, a gentleman of rather more than 
 middle age. Half-pay was writ large all over him. 
 There was not a wrinkle in his coat that did not 
 harbour a little imp that shrieked out " Half-pay ! 
 half-pay ! " for all the world to hear. His hair 
 was thin in places, but at no place was it too thin 
 to afford cover for half a dozen of those frolicsome 
 demons, with their shriek of " Half-pay ! " His 
 over-brushed frock-coat (of the year before last), his 
 over-blackened boots, and the general air of over- 
 tidiness that he carried about with him, proclaimed 
 the elderly officer of correct habits, who, after trying 
 for a year or two to obtain congenial employment 
 as the secretary to a club, and for another year 
 or two to persuade people to drink the wines of 
 Patagonia, for the sale of which he had been 
 appointed sole agent for Primrose Hill, has resolved 
 to commence life again as a popular novelist. 
 
According to Plato 21 
 
 Not far off sat a youth with receding forehead 
 and chin, and a face like that of a marmot of the 
 Alps. He kept his small eyes fixed upon the head 
 of a drowsily pretty girl, with tousled hair of an 
 orange tint unknown to nature but well known to 
 art — the art of the second-class coiffeur. She did 
 the reviews for a humble paper, but hoped to 
 qualify to be herself reviewed some day. It was 
 clear that she would never ruin her chances by a 
 mesalliance with the well-balanced scheme of retro- 
 cession observable in the profile of the youth who 
 admired her. 
 
 Two interested young girls sat at another desk 
 guardianed by a governess ; they, at any rate, 
 Josephine thought, possessed the first qualification 
 for success in fiction, for they observed every one 
 about them, and made rude remarks to each other 
 respecting their fellow creatures. The governess 
 took notes by the aid of a stumpy pencil, the blunt 
 end of which she audibly touched with the tip of 
 her tongue after every few words ; and Josephine 
 perceived that she was anaemic. 
 
 Her simple methods contrasted with the elaborate 
 batterie d'^criture of a young lady who sat at the 
 desk next to that at which Josephine and Amber 
 had placed themselves ; for she had laid in 
 front of her a silver-mounted case, monstrously 
 monogrammed, with double ink-bottles. A rack, 
 holding half a dozen pens of varying shapes and 
 
2 2 According to Plato 
 
 sizes, stood imposingly at one side, and on the othei 
 lay a neat ream of letter paper, crested and mono- 
 grammed, and a pronouncing dictionary. The 
 apparatus certainly seemed quite adequate to the 
 demands of the occasion ; and as it turned out, 
 it contained a good deal that was absolutely 
 unnecessary, for the young lady slipped into an un- 
 obtrusive doze the moment the lecturer began to 
 address his class. 
 
 A young woman, who had removed her hat in 
 order to show that she had a brow with generous 
 bumps scattered about it, lounged with an ungrace- 
 fulness that a plebiscite had pronounced to have a 
 distinct literally flavour about it, half across her 
 desk. It was understood that she had once written 
 a column in a lady's paper on something, and so 
 could afford to be careless. 
 
 A youth with a cloak and a yellow smile was 
 understood to be a poet. 
 
 A well-dressed man of middle age looked, 
 Josephine thought, as if he were something in the 
 city ; but that was just where she was mistaken. 
 It was only when he was out of the city that he 
 was something ; in the city he was nothing. He 
 was on the eve of drafting a prospectus, and so had 
 joined the fiction-class to acquire the necessary finish. 
 
 Two or three younger men and a few young 
 women who seemed to have come straight from the 
 hands of the confectioner's artist in frosting and 
 
According to Plato 23 
 
 almond icing, had taken up positions of prominence. 
 They looked as if they were anxious to be com- 
 mented on, and they were commented on. 
 
 Mr. Owen Glendower Richmond, the founder of 
 the school, was not a well-dressed man, only an 
 expensively dressed man. 
 
 He was young, but not so very young as to be 
 able to disregard the tendency to transparency in 
 that portion of his hair which covered (indifferently) 
 the crown of his head. He had the art of making 
 one hair do duty for two over this area. 
 
 He had also a very persuasive voice. 
 
 Many men have gone with success through life 
 with fewer endowments. But Mr. Richmond had 
 never been quite successful in anything that he had 
 attempted, and at thirty-four he had occasional 
 regrets that earlier in life he had not let his hair 
 grow curiously, or acquired a reputation for a profile 
 — a profile like that of Dante in the picture. 
 
 He had published a book or two ; but people 
 about him were good-natured and had agreed to 
 ignore the incident and to give him another chance. 
 He proved that their benevolence had not been 
 misplaced by becoming bankrupt over a scheme for 
 regulating the output of fiction. The public had 
 subscribed generously to his bureau, and it might 
 possibly have succeeded but for the discovery of the 
 new element to which the name neurosis was given. 
 
 Taking advantage of his position on the summit 
 
24 According to Plato 
 
 of a wave of bankruptcy, he had no difficulty 
 finding a sufficient number of friends to assist him 
 in the realisation of his scheme for establishing on 
 a permanent basis a School of Literature ; and 
 among his friends he had permission to include Sir 
 Creighton Severn and his daughter. He knew that 
 their appetite for experiments was insatiable, and 
 he had at one time taught Archie Severn — Amber's 
 only brother — all that he knew on the subject of 
 exotic forms of verse — a science in which the young 
 man had been greatly interested at one period 
 of his life. He was not altogether free from a 
 suspicion that his claims upon the family were 
 somewhat attenuated ; but when he had an inter- 
 view with them, he felt that such a suspicion was 
 unworthy of him. Sir Creighton told his daughter 
 that she was free to experiment with the experi- 
 menter, and Mr. Richmond found that his year's 
 rent was guaranteed. 
 
 Although the school had only been established 
 for six months, it was already a paying concern, 
 and Mr. Richmond was in the midst of such 
 prosperity that he felt at liberty to dress less 
 expensively, so he brought a frock coat at seven 
 pounds instead of the one at seven guineas — the 
 one which Josephine West had first seen him wear : 
 the one with the silk-quilted Hning, where most men 
 were quite contented to have a material bearing 
 the trade name of satinette. 
 
According to Plato 25 
 
 It was the cheaper garment that he was wearing 
 on the afternoon of this first visit of Josephine to 
 the school, and being an observant young woman, 
 she had really no trouble perceiving that his 
 aspirations for the moment were to assume that 
 pose which offered the greatest chance of per- 
 manency to the impression that he carried his 
 frock coat as easily as a Greek god carried his 
 drapery. 
 
 She was a very observant young woman and 
 she admired the adroitness of Mr. Owen Glendower 
 Richmond in associating himself, even though he 
 did so only through the agency of a crease that 
 began at the waist and ended short at the knee, 
 with classical tradition. 
 
 And then she admired herself for the subtlety 
 of her observation, and thus was in a psychological 
 frame of mind to yield to the persuasive charm of 
 Mr. Richmond's voice. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 " T T has been suggested to the Council," said Mr. 
 
 -*- Richmond — the name " Council " was the 
 one by which he desired upon occasion to be known 
 to the pupils of the school — " that, as the Slum 
 Novel is that branch of fiction by which it is easiest 
 to gain a reputation for profound thought at the 
 least expenditure of thought, I should deal with the 
 technicalities of such a composition. 
 
 " I think the suggestion an excellent one, and 
 I trust that I shall succeed in enabling you to 
 produce, after a little practice, such a book as will 
 certainly be reviewed to the extent of a full column 
 in more than one of the leading newspapers." 
 
 There was a general movement of attention 
 throughout the class at this point. The lady with 
 the two ink bottles, who lived in an atmosphere 
 strongly impregnated with monograms done in silver, 
 carefully chose a pen from her rack. 
 
 " In addition to the novel's receiving a lengthy 
 review or two, it may even sell," continued Mr. 
 Richmond. " But if it should not sell, the writer 
 will, in the estimation of a certain circle^ — a circle 
 which I do not say it is impossible to ' square,'' 
 
 25 
 
According to Plato 27 
 
 I speak paradoxically, — have constituted a still 
 stronger claim to be regarded as a profound thinker. 
 
 " Now at the outset I ask you to write at the 
 head of your notes the word ' Dulness! This is 
 the goal to which you must press forward in the 
 slum novel. You must be dull at all hazards. 
 No matter what you have to sacrifice to produce 
 this impression, you must aim at being dull. It 
 is not generally recognised that there are many 
 ways of being dull. There is genial dulness and 
 there is jocular dulness. There is dulness of diction 
 and dulness of characterisation. There is dulness 
 of morality and dulness of criminality. There is 
 dulness of socialism and dulness of suburbanism. 
 Now, if you succeed in making a blend of all these 
 forms of dulness, you will have gone far in making 
 a successful slum novel. 
 
 " The next note which I will beg of you to 
 make is this : ' The slum novel must neither embody 
 lessons nor suggest remedies.' 
 
 " You must invent your characters, add, if you 
 will, a plot, but the latter is by no means essential, 
 and then you must get up your topography. Too 
 great emphasis cannot be laid upon the necessity 
 for a minute topographical scheme— with a map, 
 if possible. I must remind you that a map in a 
 work of fiction imparts to it an aspect of dulness 
 which even the most brilliant writer might fail to 
 achieve in a dozen pages. 
 
28 According to Plato 
 
 " Next in importance to imaginary topography 
 is imaginary dialect. I will ask you to write the 
 word 'Dialed' large in your notes. The argot of 
 the slums cannot be made too unintelligible, nor 
 can its inconsistency be over-emphasised. An ex- 
 cellent recipe for true cockney is to mix with the 
 broadest Lancashire a phrase or two of Norfolk, 
 a word or two of stage Irish, and all the oaths in 
 daily use in the mining districts. The result will 
 be pure cockney. But you must be very careful 
 of your oaths. Swearing is to a slum novel what 
 vinegar is to salad — what the sulphur tip is to the 
 lucifer match. On the whole I think that those 
 ladies who are desirous of writing dialogue that 
 can scarcely fail to receive the heartiest recognition 
 from critics, would do well to allow no character 
 to make even the simplest remark without intrud- 
 ing at least two of those words which, a few years 
 ago, a printer would refuse to print. The effect 
 will be startling at first, more especially if the 
 coarsest words are put into the mouths of women 
 and children ; but you must remember that the 
 object of a slum novel is to startle a reader without 
 interesting a reader. It is in furtherance of this aim 
 that you must so disguise the everyday words spoken 
 by your characters as to make them quite unintel- 
 ligible to the most adroit of readers. If the least 
 clue is obtainable to the simplest words you may be 
 sure that there is something wrong in your technique. 
 
According to Plato 29 
 
 " Now I come to the important element known 
 as Cruelty. Will you kindly write down the word 
 ' Cruelty ' ? Respecting the technicalities of this 
 element a good deal of advice might be given. But 
 I shall have said enough on this point to give you 
 a good working acquaintance with its place in the 
 slum novel when I assure you that you cannot 
 make it too revolting, and that you cannot describe 
 the details of any revolting act too minutely. Your 
 blood-stains cannot be too large or dark or damp 
 — you must be careful that the blood-stains are 
 kept damp. 
 
 " The entire technique of the plot may be included 
 in this precept : Make your heroine a woman with 
 fists like those of a man, and let her be murdered 
 by the man whom she loves, and let her die in 
 the act of assuring the policeman that she did it 
 herself. Her last words must be ' S'elp me, Gawd.' 
 This is understood to be genuine pathos. It is 
 not for me to say that it is otherwise. When I 
 shall have the honour of dealing with the techni- 
 (ialities of pathos you may depend on my not 
 neglecting the important branch of Slum Pathos." 
 
 Mr. Owen Glendower Richmond paused and took 
 a glass of water with the air of a connoisseur of 
 vintages. He seemed to trust that it would be 
 understood that the water was of a delicate cm. 
 There was another distinct movement among his 
 audience that almost suggested relief There were 
 
30 According to Plato 
 
 whispers. It seemed to be understood that the 
 relaxing of the strain put upon the members of 
 the class meant a period of complete repose. 
 
 " He kept it up wonderfully, did he not ? " re- 
 marked Josephine. 
 
 "Kept it up?" cried Amber, assuming the 
 wrinkle of the one who is puzzled. 
 
 " Yes, the tennis-ball of satire and the shuttle- 
 cock of irony," said Josephine. " Do these folk 
 take him seriously ? " 
 
 " We do," replied Amber with a touch of dignity. 
 " We do. He will prevent a good many of us 
 from making fools of ourselves." 
 
 " But I thought that you had only reached the 
 Aunt Dorothy stage of machine-made literature," 
 said Josephine. " Have you already mastered the 
 technique of Aunt Dorothy ? " 
 
 " I am occasionally allowed to join the higher 
 fiction class as a treat," said Amber. " Mr. Overton 
 comes to this class." 
 
 " I see. You are leading him to higher things 
 by the primrose path of technical literature," said 
 Josephine. " This primrose path seems to me to 
 resemble the mule track through the valley from 
 Stalden to Saas Fee — it does not admit of much 
 independence of travelling." 
 
 " Hush ! Mr. Richmond is going to set us our 
 home exercise," said Amber, as the teacher gave a 
 little tap to his desk with the stem of a quill pen, 
 
According to Plato 31 
 
 holding it by the feather end. The sound that it 
 made was curious and its effect was electrical ; all 
 faces were instantly turned toward him. 
 
 " Last week I made you acquainted with the 
 technique of the historical novel," said Mr. Richmond, 
 " and I am naturally anxious to learn to what 
 extent you have availed yourselves of my sugges- 
 tions. I will therefore offer you for home exercise 
 the following problem : ' Given a dark alley in a 
 seventeenth-century continental city, with a cold, 
 damp wind blowing through it, when the hero of 
 the story takes shelter in one of the doorways ; 
 describe the fight in the cellar when he descends 
 on hearing the shrieks of a girl with fair hair and 
 a curious cross set with pearls and sapphires on 
 her breast, proceeding from that portion of the 
 building.' 
 
 "You may do me the honour to recollect that 
 I made you acquainted with the technique of the 
 brawl of the historical romance, with its two motives 
 — the marked pack of cards and the girl with fair 
 hair and the cross with pearls and sapphires on her 
 breast. You are at perfect liberty in the exercise 
 to make the young woman either haughty or humble, 
 but I need scarcely remind you, I hope, that she 
 must be either the one or the other in an extrava- 
 gant degree. Now I will read out the terms of the 
 problem once more : ' Given a dark alley — a dark 
 alley ' Have you got that down ? " 
 
32 According to Plato 
 
 Mr. Richmond repeated slowly, with praiseworthy- 
 distinctness, the terms of the problem, and the 
 members of the class scratched away at their notes 
 with pencils of varying shapes and sizes — -all except 
 the young lady with the big, silver monograms, and 
 the blotter inside them : she used a pen, which she 
 dipped alternately into the bottle of red and the 
 bottle of black ink — such is the absent-mindedness 
 of authorship even in the jellyfish period of its 
 evolution. 
 
 " Is it possible that you are taking it all down ? " 
 asked Josephine of Amber. 
 
 " It is only to encourage the others," replied 
 Amber. " If Guy Overton did not see me taking 
 it all down, he wouldn't write a line." 
 
 " And will you make the attempt to work out 
 the problem at home ? " asked Josephine. 
 
 " Perhaps I may have a shot at it. After all, 
 it's no more difficult than an ordinary equation : 
 given the hero, the cold damp wind and the shrieks, 
 to find the girl. I think I shall make her simple, 
 not haughty. The haughty ones are a little boring, 
 are they not ? " 
 
 " And now we shall proceed to the dialect 
 lesson," said Mr. Richmond. " Having dealt with 
 Somersetshire during the past week, I will now 
 offer you for translation a few sentences containing 
 .the fundamental words necessary to the dialogue of 
 the Lowland Scotch novel. You will observe that 
 
According to Plato 33 
 
 these words are really not numerous. But, as you 
 can ring some thousands of changes upon a peal of 
 eight bells, so by the free use of a dozen dialect 
 words you can impart a strong local colour to any 
 commonplace story. Of course it ceases to be 
 commonplace when the characters speak in the 
 dialect of the Lowlands." 
 
 He then wrote a few sentences on the blackboard 
 embodying such words as " muckle," " mickle," 
 " hoot awa'," " bonnie, bonnie, bonnie " — " you 
 cannot have too many " bonnies," he remarked — 
 " wee " in its direct application, and " wee " when 
 combined with another diminutive, such as " wee 
 bit." He explained the significance of every phrase, 
 and pointed out how directly it appealed to the 
 heart of a reader. He applied a critical stethoscope, 
 as it were, to every phrase, showing the strong, 
 manly heart of a sturdy people beating through 
 such sentences as he had placed before his class. 
 
 " I will now, with your permission," said Mr. 
 Richmond, " conclude the business of the class with 
 a time-study. A short time ago I brought under 
 your notice the technicalities of the Novel of Phrases. 
 You will, I hope, recollect that I laid considerable 
 emphasis upon the effect capable of being produced 
 by a startling definition of something which, in 
 common acceptation, in no way stands in need of 
 being defined. Now, you all know what Platonic 
 Affection means ; well, a definition, or a series of 
 
 3 
 
34 According to Plato 
 
 definitions of Platonic Affection, will form the ten 
 minutes' time-study for to-day. Ladies and gentle- 
 men, Platonic Affection — a definition for the purpose 
 of the Novel of Phrases." 
 
 There was nothing like a smile on Mr. Richmond's 
 face at any part of his lecture. He treated in the 
 most serious way every technical point which he 
 suggested. He handled every portion of the subject 
 with the freedom and the gravity of a surgeon in 
 the dissecting-room. There was a certain frankness 
 in his assumption that any one could be taught how 
 to make the great mass of the people smile or laugh 
 or weep or feel, that the production of certain 
 effects in prose was as entirely a matter of machinery 
 as the effects produced by the man at the throttle- 
 valve of the locomotive when he jerks the piece of 
 metal with the handle. Some people might have 
 called this frankness cynicism ; but Josephine could 
 not see that there was anything cynical about it. 
 
 She had attended for some years a life-class at 
 the studio of a painter of distinction, and he had 
 lectured to his pupils on the technical aspects of the 
 art of painting, referring, occasionally, to what he 
 called the depth of feeling in certain chromatic com- 
 binations. He had also shown them how to produce 
 the effect of tears on a face by making a little smudge 
 on the cheeks. If it was possible to teach such 
 technicahties, why should not some one do as 
 Mr. Richmond was doing, ^nd tgach a crowd of 
 
According to Plato 35 
 
 students how to write so as to draw tears or compel 
 smiles ? 
 
 " I don't think that I will trouble myself with 
 the time-study," said Amber. 
 
 Josephine looked at her and gave a laugh. 
 
 " Platonic affection," she said musingly. " I 
 wonder why you should shirk a paper on that 
 question ? You are supposed to be an exponent of 
 virtue according to Plato. I should like to know 
 what Mr. Guy Overton thinks about it. I should 
 like to know what Mr. Galmyn thinks about it. 
 The definition of Mr. Willie Bateman's opinion 
 might also possess some element of interest." 
 
 " Write down what you think of it," cried Amber, 
 pushing the paper toward her. 
 
 Josephine shook her head at first, smiling gently. 
 Then she made a sudden grab at the pencil that 
 hung to one of the chains of her chitelaine. 
 
 " I'll define Platonic affection for you, my dear," 
 she whispered, " for you — not for Mr. Richmond ; 
 he needs no definition of that or anything else." 
 
 She began to write a good deal more rapidly than 
 the others in the class-room. So rapidly did she 
 write that she was unable to see how great was the 
 interest in Mr. Richmond's face while he watched 
 her, and how great was the interest in the face of a 
 young man who sat at the most distant desk while 
 he watched Amber. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 " TDLATONIC affection is the penalty which one 
 ^ pays in old age for procrastination in one's 
 youth. It is the phrase that one employs to restore 
 one's self-respect when suffering from the watchful 
 care of a husband. It is the theory of a Greek 
 Sophist to define the attitude of a sculptor in regard 
 to his marble. It also defines the attitude of the 
 marble in regard to the sculptor. It was the 
 attribute of Galatea just before she began to live, 
 and it is the attitude of the moralist just before 
 he begins to die. It is the triumph of logic over 
 love. It is the consolation of the man who is 
 content with roses cut out of tissue paper. It is 
 the comfort of the woman who thinks that a quill 
 and a glass of water make an entirely satisfactory 
 substitute for a nightingale in June. It is the 
 banquet of the Barmecides. It is the epitaph on 
 the grave of manhood. It is the slab on the grave 
 of womanhood. It is the phrase that is shrieked 
 out every hour from the cuckoo clock. It is an 
 ode by Sappho, written in water. It is the egg-shell 
 that is treasured by a man when some one else is 
 eating the omelette. It is the affection of the Doge 
 
 36 
 
According to Plato %7 
 
 of Venice for the Adriatic. It is a salad without 
 vinegar. It is the shortest way to the divorce court. 
 It is a perpetual menace to a man, and the severest 
 threat that one can hold over the head of a woman. 
 It is a lion with the toothache. It is the Sword 
 of Damocles. It is Apollo in pyjamas. It is the 
 fence upon which a man sits while he waits to 
 see which way the cat will jump. It is a song, 
 the words of which have been lost and the music 
 mislaid. It is entering on a property, the title- 
 deeds of which are in the possession of some one 
 else. It is offering a woman a loaf of bread when 
 she is dying of thirst. It is offering a man a cup 
 of water when he is dying of hunger. It is the 
 smoke of an extinct volcano. It is the purchase- 
 price paid by a fool for the fee-simple of a castle 
 in Spain. It is the fraudulent prospectus of a bogus 
 company. It is the only thing that Nature abhors 
 more than a vacuum. It is the triumph of the 
 vacuum over Nature. It is the last refuge of the 
 roue. It is presenting a diet of confectionery to 
 carnivora. It is the experiment which my dear 
 friend. Amber Severn, is trying, in order that 
 every one who knows her may be warned in 
 time." 
 
 She folded up the paper carefully, and handed 
 it to Amber, saying : 
 
 " There is not only a definition, but a whole 
 treatise for you, my dear Amber. It is for you 
 
38 According to Plato 
 
 alone, however, and it is not written to dissuade 
 you from your experiment." 
 
 " My experiment ? What is my experiment ? " 
 
 Josephine looked at her and smiled vaguely, 
 benevolently. 
 
 " The experiment of feeding carnivora on con- 
 fectionery," said she. 
 
 " You mean that — that Oh no ; you cannot 
 
 say that, whatever happens, I have not improved 
 them all." 
 
 " I would not dare even to think so. If, however, 
 you succeed in convincing any two of them that 
 you are quite right in marrying the third, you will 
 have proved conclusively that confectionery is a 
 most satisfactory diet for carnivora." 
 
 " I don't believe that any one of the three wishes 
 to marry me. Not one of them has even so much 
 hinted at that. Oh no, we are far too good friends 
 ever to become lovers. They are all nice and are 
 getting nicer every day." 
 
 " I really think they are. At any rate you were 
 born to try experiments. You can no more avoid 
 experimenting than your father can. Here comes 
 an elementary principal with an empty note-book 
 in his hand." 
 
 A youth of twenty-four or twenty-five years, with a 
 good figure and a pleasantly plain face and unusually 
 large hands and feet, sauntered up. The members 
 of the class were trooping out, some of them handing 
 
According to Plato 39 
 
 in their time studies to Mr. Richmond who stood 
 at the head of the room. 
 
 " How do you do, Miss West ? How are you, 
 Amber ? " he said. " I saw you working like a 
 gas-engine, Miss West. What on earth could you 
 find to say on that subject ? " 
 
 "What subject, Mr. Guy Overton?" said 
 Josephine. 
 
 The young man looked puzzled — pleasantly 
 puzzled. 
 
 " The subject you were writing about," he 
 replied cautiously. 
 
 " You don't even remember the title of the time- 
 study," said Amber severely. 
 
 " I don't," he cried defiantly. " What would 
 be the good of remembering it? I saw at once 
 that it was all Thomas." 
 
 " All Thomas ? " said Amber inquiringly. 
 
 " All Thomas — all Tommy rot. You didn't 
 bother yourself writing a big heap Injin about it 
 yourself, my fine lady." 
 
 " That was because she is really scientific in 
 her methods, Mr. Overton," said Josephine. " She 
 doesn't write out the result of an experiment until 
 she has analysed the residuum in the crucible." 
 
 The young man looked into her face very care- 
 fully. He was never quite sure of this particular 
 girl. She required such a lot of looking at, and 
 even then he was never quite certain that she had 
 
40 According to Plato 
 
 not said something that would make him look like 
 a fool if any one clever enough to understand her 
 was at hand. Luckily for him there were, he 
 knew, not many such people likely to be about. 
 He looked at her very carefully, and then turned 
 to Amber, saying : 
 
 " I came across a chip of a cornstalk yesterday 
 who says his dad used to know Sir Creighton before 
 he went to Australia. May I bring him with me 
 some day ? " 
 
 " Of course you may," cried Amber, her face 
 brightening. Josephine knew that her face brightened 
 as the prospect of acquiring some fresh materials 
 for her laboratory. " What is his name ? " 
 
 " His name is Winwood — Pierce Winwood, if it 
 so please you." 
 
 " I'll ask my father and keep him up to the 
 date," said Amber. " I suppose his father's name 
 was Winwood, too ? " 
 
 "Why shouldn't it be? Oh, there's nothing the 
 matter with him. My dad used to know his dad 
 out there. They were in the same colony and 
 pretty nearly cleaned it out between them. But 
 Winwood died worth a good bit more than my 
 poor old dad. Oh, he's all right." 
 
 " I'm sure you have said enough to convince 
 any one that the son is all right," said Josephine. 
 
 " Three quarters of a million at least," remarked 
 Guy Overton with the wink of sagacity. 
 
According to Plato 4^^ 
 
 " What ! so right as all that ? " exclaimed Josephine 
 with the uplifted eyebrows of incredulity. 
 
 " Every penny," said the youth with the emphasis 
 of pride. 
 
 " Oh, money is nothing ! " said Amber with a 
 headshake of indifference. 
 
 " Nothing in the world," acquiesced Guy with a 
 heartiness that carried with it absolute conviction 
 of insincerity to critical ears. 
 
 " Have you made much progress, Guy ? " inquired 
 Amber. 
 
 " Among this racket ? " he asked. " Not much. 
 I think if I've made any progress, it's backward. 
 Two months ago I could read a novel — if it was 
 the right sort — without trouble. But since I have 
 been shown the parts of the machine that turns 
 them out, blest if I can get beyond the first page." 
 
 " That's a good sign ; it shows that you are 
 becoming critical," cried Amber. 
 
 " Does it ? Well ... I don't know. If attend- 
 ing a Technical School of Novel-writing makes a 
 chap incapable of reading a book, I don't think 
 the show can be called a success. Anyway I don't 
 believe that prose fiction — that's how it's called 
 — is the department for me. I believe that the 
 poetry shop is the one I'm meant to shine in. 
 You see, there's only one sort of poetry nowadays, 
 and it's easily taught ; whereas there are a dozen 
 forms of prose fiction — I never guessed that the 
 
42 According to Plato 
 
 business was so complicated before I came here. 
 Oh yes, I'll join the poetry shop next week." 
 
 " You'll do nothing of the sort ; it's twice as 
 complicated as this," said Amber severely. 
 
 " Don't tell me that," he retorted. " I've heard the 
 best poetry of the day — yes, in the music halls, and 
 I believe that with a little practice I could turn it 
 out by the web. All the people want is three verses 
 and a good kick in the chorus — something you 
 remember easily, with a good word about Tommy 
 Atkins and two for good old Mother England. I 
 know the swing of the thing. Oh yes, I'll get 
 seconded to the poetry shop. Here comes Barnum 
 himself." 
 
 His final words were delivered in a furtive whisper 
 while Mr. Richmond strolled across the room to the 
 group — it was the last group that remained. 
 
 When he had come up Mr. Guy Overton was 
 extremely respectful in his attitude to Mr. Richmond 
 and called him " Sir." He looked at his watch, 
 however, a moment after, and said he was an hour 
 late for a particular appointment that he had, so 
 he reckoned he should make himself distant. 
 
 Mr. Richmond smiled socially, not officially, and 
 added a nod, before turning to greet the girls. He 
 was not very impressive while saying that he felt 
 greatly honoured to see Miss West in the class- 
 room. He was sure that she understood his aims. 
 Then Miss West said she was certain that it must 
 
According to Plato 43 
 
 be a great pleasure to him to lecture before a 
 sympathetic audience. He evaded her evasion and 
 inquired of Miss Severn if he might include her 
 among the sympathetic members of his audience, 
 and Miss Severn declared that she had learned 
 more in ten minutes from him respecting the literary 
 value of certain Scotch words than she had acquired 
 by reading the two novels written in the Scotch 
 tongue which she had mastered during the previous 
 four years of her life, and she hoped Mr. Richmond 
 considered the attendance satisfactory. He assured 
 her that, sanguine though he had been as to the 
 number of persons anxious to write novels, the 
 attendance at the fiction-class amazed him. 
 
 " And many who were present to.-day were 
 actually attentive," remarked Josephine. 
 
 " And one of the ladies defines platonic affection 
 as the reason why Brutus killed Caesar — I hold the 
 document in my hand," said the master. 
 
 Both girls cried, " How funny ! " and smiled their 
 way to the door, which Mr. Richmond held open 
 for them. 
 
 On the way to Kensington Palace Gardens they 
 agreed that the flowered frocks then so popular 
 would not live another season. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 T ADY SEVERN had survived the measured 
 -* — • mile. Sir Creighton was jubilant. His 
 daughter flew to him. How did the continuous 
 keel-propeller work ? What was the co-efficient of 
 energy developed over the measured mile ? Was 
 fifty miles actually touched, and what about the 
 depression in the stern ? Did the boat steer all 
 right on the progressive principle ? Did the 
 admiral grumble as usual ? 
 
 Her father gave her a detailed account of the 
 strong points of the new system of keel propulsion, 
 which every one had recognised, and of the weak 
 points, which he alone had detected, and then she was 
 able to drink her tea, and so was Sir Creighton. 
 
 Lady Severn said the lunch was excellent ; only 
 when travelling by water at the rate of fifty knots 
 every one seemed inclined to eat at the rate of 
 fifty knots. 
 
 After drinking a cup of tea Sir Creighton looked 
 at the clock and sighed. 
 
 " The day is gone before one gets any work 
 done," he said. " I have not been in my own room 
 since yesterday afternoon, Joe," he added, looking at 
 
 44 
 
According to Plato 45 
 
 Josephine, as if hoping to find in her a sympathetic 
 audience. 
 
 " You'll get no sympathy from me, Sir Creighton," 
 she laughed. " You have done more to-day than 
 all the men of your craft — I suppose that your 
 boat may be called a craft — have succeeded in 
 accomplishing during the past hundred years — fifty 
 knots ! — just think of it ! —and yet you complain 
 of not being able to get anything done ! Oh no ; 
 you'll get no sympathy from me.'' 
 
 Sir Creighton went across the room to her, and 
 his scientific skill enabled him to squeeze between 
 his finger and thumb that part of her arm where 
 all the sensitive nerves meet. 
 
 She shrieked. 
 
 " I will force you to sympathise with me," he 
 said. " You have still another arm. What ! they 
 are actually taking your part ? " 
 
 Sir Creighton had a pretty wit. It was most 
 exuberant when he had discovered a new torture 
 founded on a purely scientific basis. That was how 
 he kept himself young. 
 
 " Oh, by the way," said Amber, when he was 
 going once more toward the door, " Guy has picked 
 up with some one from New South Wales, whose 
 father said he had once known you. His name 
 is — now what on earth did he say his name was ? " 
 
 " Wasn't it Mr. Winwood ? " said Josephine. 
 
 " Of course. Pierce Winwood. Do you remember 
 
46 According to Plato 
 
 any man of that name — long ago — it must have 
 been long ago. He made a big fortune in the 
 meantime ? " 
 
 " Winwood — Winwood ? No, I don't remember 
 any one bearing that name," said Sir Creighton. 
 " Better tell Guy to bring him out and I daresay 
 he'll draw the threads together." 
 
 " I told Guy I was sure that you would like to 
 have a chat with him — the son, I mean ; he said the 
 father, who claimed to know you, was dead." 
 
 " There's cause and effect for you," said Sir 
 Creighton. " Better ask him to dinner with Guy — 
 the son, I mean." 
 
 He spoke with his hand on the handle of the 
 door, and then went whistling down the corridor to 
 his study which opened out upon a garden of roses 
 at the back of the house. The long table was 
 covered with scale drawings, and the smell of the 
 tracing-paper filled the room. Sir Creighton stood 
 for a few moments looking down at those tracings 
 of the sections of wheels — wheels within wheels — 
 and the profiles of pinions. 
 
 " What the Nightingale sang to the Rose," said 
 the man of science. " Pah ! what can any one say 
 about the nightingale and the rose that has not 
 been said before ? " 
 
 He turned over several of the drawings critically, 
 and counted the leaves of one of the pinions. 
 
 " He has made no allowance for end-shake," he 
 
According to Plato 47 
 
 muttered. " A sixteenth on each pivot. Was it 
 in the Garden of Gulistan ? I rather think not. An 
 English rose-garden — why not within the four-mile 
 radius ? " 
 
 He stood at the glass door leading to his own 
 garden, and remained there for some minutes looking 
 out upon the great clusters of mixed blooms. Then 
 he turned to one of the desks, and, unlocking a drawer, 
 slipped his hand inside, relieving the spring of a 
 secret compartment that seemed to be a fixture. 
 He drew out a sheaf of papers covered with verses 
 with many erasures and those countless corrections 
 which commonly occur in manuscripts of poets who 
 are not only inspired but who add to the original 
 impulse of inspiration a fastidiousness of phrase 
 quite unknown to the older poets. 
 
 The topmost leaf of the sheaf contained a stanza 
 and a half of a poem in an original metre describing 
 how a nightingale came nightly to visit a certain 
 rose, but the rose being only a bud, failed to under- 
 stand what was the meaning of the music, until 
 on the evening of a burning day, when the Star 
 of Love shed the only light that came from thfe 
 sky through the heavy scented air that hovered 
 on the rose garden, " The faithful nightingale sang 
 this song." 
 
 This was where the manuscript ended. There 
 was space enough on the paper for two more stanzas. 
 All that was needed was to put into words the song 
 
48 According to Plato 
 
 that the nightingale sang to stir the rosebud into 
 the bloom of passion. 
 
 This was the reflection of the man of science as 
 he read the ambitious prelude which he had written 
 the previous day just when the leader writers on 
 all the newspapers in England were pointing out 
 how the adaptation of electricity to the keel-propeller 
 marked the most important epoch in the history 
 of marine engineering. 
 
 " That's all I have got to do," he muttered now, 
 when the cables were carrying to all parts of the 
 world the news that Sir Creighton Severn's latest 
 invention had just been tested over the measured 
 mile with the most surprising results, a record speed 
 of fifty-two knots having been noted. " Only the 
 song of the nightingale," said the man of science, 
 seating himself at the desk with the unfinished 
 poem in front of him. 
 
 He wrote for two hours, completing the poem 
 entitled, " What the Nightingale sang to the Rose," 
 which, when published above the name " Alengon 
 Hope" in a magazine three months later, was so 
 widely commented on, some critics going so far as 
 to declare with that confidence which is the chief 
 part of the equipment of the critic, that in the 
 recently published volume by the same author, 
 nothing more exquisite could be found. 
 
 It was Sir Creighton's little bit of fun to publish, 
 unknown to any one in the world, a volume of verse 
 
According to Plato 49 
 
 that had achieved a brilliant success in the world, 
 and even in his own household, where its apt lines 
 were frequently quoted, both by Amber and her 
 brother. That was how it came about that Sir 
 Creighton smiled quite vaguely when people re- 
 marked how strange it was that young Severn had 
 shown an early taste for writing verse. Who was 
 it that he took after, they inquired. They felt that 
 the exigencies of the theory of heredity were fully 
 satisfied when Lady Severn explained that there 
 was a tradition in her family that her father had 
 once sent a valentine to her mother. Still, it 
 was funny, they said, to find the son of a father, 
 who was a practical " scientist " — that was what 
 they called Sir Creighton, a " scientist " — having 
 a tendency to write verse. 
 
 Sir Creighton, when he had finished writhing at 
 the word " scientist," had smiled quite vaguely, for no 
 one seemed to entertain the idea that the inspiration 
 which had enabled the man of science to look into 
 the future and see ships moving silently over the 
 water at a speed of fifty-two knots an hour was 
 precisely the same quality as that which permitted 
 of his translating into English metre the passionate 
 song sung by the nightingale to the rose. 
 
 No one knew how refreshed he felt on returning 
 to his electrical designs after spending an hour or 
 two over those exquisite fabrics of verse which 
 appeared in the volume by "Alengon Hope." 
 
 4 
 
50 According to Plato 
 
 Rhythm and arithmetic seem, to many people, to 
 be the positive and negative poles of a magnet ; but 
 both mean the same thing in the language from 
 which they are derived. 
 
 " Poor old pater ! " said Amber, when the girls 
 were left alone with Lady Severn. " He is back 
 again at one of those problems which he has set 
 himself to solve for the good of the world. Poor 
 old pater ! " 
 
 " Old ! " cried Josephine. " I never met any one 
 so young in the whole course of my life. In his 
 presence I feel quite mature.'' 
 
 " The greatest problem that he has solved is the 
 science of living," said Lady Severn. " If he has 
 not discovered the secret of perpetual youth, he has 
 mastered the more important mystery of perpetual 
 happiness." 
 
 " He knows that it is best seen through another's 
 eyes," said Josephine. 
 
 At this point a young man with a very shiny hat 
 in his hand was shown in. He was greeted by 
 Amber by the name of Arthur and by the others as 
 Mr. Galmyn. He was a somewhat low-sized youth, 
 with very fair hair breaking into curls here and 
 there that suggested the crests of a wave blown by 
 the wind. It was not his curls, however, but his 
 eyes that attracted the attention of most people ; 
 for his eyes were large and delicately blue. Senti- 
 mentalists who sat opposite to him in an omnibus — ■ 
 
According to Plato 51 
 
 an omnibus is full of sentimental people, six on 
 each side — were accustomed to see a certain depth 
 of sadness in Arthur Galmyn's eyes. He would 
 have felt greatly disappointed if they had failed to 
 think them sad. He had long ago formed a definite 
 opinion about their expression. They had caused 
 him a great deal of thought and some trouble in his 
 time, but he had long ago come to feel every 
 confidence in their sadness. It was his aim to see 
 that his life was congenially tinged with a mild 
 melancholy. 
 
 He quoted from " The Lotus Eaters," and tried to 
 realise a life " in which it always seemed afternoon." 
 He took tea punctually at five. 
 
 " If you please," he said. " I know that the tea- 
 leaves are never allowed to remain in your teapot. 
 I have no disquieting recollection of your teapot, 
 Amber. And a cake — one of the hot ones, Miss 
 West. They have no currants. I know that I 
 shall never run the chance of coming in personal 
 contact with a currant, change you your cakes never 
 so often. I found myself confronted by a currant 
 without a moment's warning a few days ago at 
 Lady March's. I was saddened. And I thought 
 I knew her tea-cakes so well. I felt for some 
 days as if I had heard of a dear friend's com- 
 mitting a forgery — as if I had come across you 
 suddenly in the park wearing mauve instead of pink, 
 Amber." 
 
52 According to Plato 
 
 " It does tinge one's life with melancholy. Have 
 you made any money to-day ? " said Amber in one 
 breath. 
 
 He drank his cup of tea and bit off a segment 
 from the circle of the tea-cake, then he looked 
 earnestly at the tips of his fingers. Two of them 
 were shiny. 
 
 " I've not done badly," he said. " I made about 
 eight pounds. It doesn't seem much, does it ? But 
 that eight pounds is on the right side of the ledger, 
 and that's something." 
 
 " It's excellent," said Lady Severn. 
 
 " I consider it most praiseworthy if you made 
 it by fair dealing," said Josephine. 
 
 " Oh, Joe, don't discourage him so early in his 
 career," cried Amber. 
 
 Arthur Galmyn finished the tea in his cup and 
 laid it thoughtfully before Amber to be refilled. 
 
 " It's quite delicious," he said, — " quite delicious. 
 I wonder if anything is quite fair in the way of 
 making money — except the tables at Monte Carlo ; 
 there's no cheating done there." 
 
 " That's what I wonder too," said Josephine. 
 
 " Anyway, I've only made eight pounds to-day — 
 there's not much cheating in eight pounds, is there. 
 Miss West?" said Mr. Galmyn. 
 
 "Everything must have a beginning," said 
 Miss West. 
 
 " Don't be discouraged, Arthur," said Amber. " If 
 
According to Plato 53 
 
 you only continue on the system I've laid down 
 for you, you'll make plenty of money, and what's 
 better still, you will become reformed." 
 
 " I've given up poetry already," said he, in the 
 sad tone that one adopts in speaking of one's 
 pleasant vices which one is obliged to relinquish 
 through the tyranny of years. 
 
 " That's a step in the right direction," said Amber. 
 " Oh, I've no doubt as to your future, Arthur. But 
 you must study hard — oh yes, you must study 
 hard." 
 
 " So I do ; I can tell you the closing price of 
 all Home Rails to-day without referring to a list." 
 
 " Really ? Well, you are progressing. What about 
 Industrials ? " said Amber. 
 
 " I'm leaving over Industrials for another week," 
 he replied. " I've given all my attention to Home 
 Rails during the past fortnight. I daresay if I don't 
 break down under the strain I shall go through a 
 course of Industrials inside another week, and then 
 get on to Kaffirs." 
 
 " It's at Industrials that the money is to be made, 
 you must remember," said Amber. " Let me enforce 
 upon you once more the non-speculative business — 
 don't think of coups. Aim only at half per cent, of 
 a rise, and take advantage of even the smallest rise." 
 
 " That's how I made my eight pounds to-day," 
 said he. " You see, when things were very flat in 
 the morm'ng there came the report of a great British, 
 
54 According to Plato 
 
 victory. I knew that it wasn't true ; but half a dozen 
 things went up ten shillings or so, and I unloaded. 
 Unloaded. It's so nice to have those words pat ; it 
 makes you feel that you're in the swim of the thing. 
 If I only knew what contango meant, I think I 
 could make an impressive use of that word also." 
 
 At this point another visitor was announced. 
 His name was Mr. William Bateman. He was a 
 bright-looking man of perhaps a year or two over 
 thirty, and though he was close upon six feet in 
 height he probably would have ridden under ten 
 stone, so earnest was the attention that he had 
 given to his figure. 
 
 He would not take any tea 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 "'XTT'E have been talking shop as usual, Mr. 
 
 ' ' Bateman," said Lady Severn. " I wonder 
 if there's another drawing-room in London where 
 shop and shop only is talked ! " 
 
 " To say that shop is talked in a drawing-room 
 is only another way of saying that the people in 
 that drawing-room never cease to be interesting," 
 said Amber. " So long as people talk of what they 
 know, they are interesting, and shop is the shortest 
 way of describing what people understand. So 
 how is your shop, Mr. Bateman ? " 
 
 " Flourishing," said Mr. Bateman, with something 
 of a Scotch accent. " Miss Amber, I bless the day 
 when you suggested that I should take up the 
 advertising business. I had no idea that it was a 
 business that required the exercise of so much 
 imagination." 
 
 " Have you made much money to-day ? " inquired 
 Amber. 
 
 " I think I must hurry away," said Josephine. 
 " We have a political party to-night, and I'm tired 
 of seeing Amber's friends flaunting their wealth 
 before us. If Mr. Galmyn made eight pounds in 
 
 ss 
 
56 According to Plato 
 
 the course of the morning and he is a poet, what 
 must Mr. Bateman have made ? " 
 
 " And he is a Scotchman," said Mr. Bateman 
 pleasantly. 
 
 " Yes, that finish was in my mind, I must confess,'' 
 said Josephine. " Do not be led into dishonesty by 
 any one, Mr. Galmyn ; you will be far happier as 
 a humble lyric poet, with the consciousness of being 
 honest, than as a great financier with an imaginary 
 mine up your sleeve." 
 
 " Go away, before you do any further mischief," 
 cried Amber. " Don't believe her, Arthur. If you 
 ever have a gold mine up your sleeve, we'll float 
 it between us." 
 
 " And we'll let Miss West in on the ground floor," 
 said Arthur. " That's another good phrase that I've 
 got hold of already. The ' ground floor.' " 
 
 " What does it mean ? " asked Lady Severn, when 
 Josephine had left the room. " Does it mean any- 
 thing in particular ? " 
 
 " It means joining a thing at par," rephed Arthur 
 sadly. " Oh yes, I'm getting into the swing of 
 the thing. Perhaps I may know what contango 
 means before another week has gone by." 
 
 " I should dearly love to know what contango 
 means," said Amber sympathetically. It was her 
 sympathetic manner that made a word or two from 
 her change the whole course of certain young lives 
 — for a time. " I was asking you about your 
 
According to Plato S7 
 
 prospects, Mr. Bateman," she added, turning to the 
 latest addition to her circle. " I do hope that you 
 are making your way.'' 
 
 " Making my way ? " said he gravely, and then he 
 gave a little laugh — a cautious little laugh, suggesting 
 that he was feeling his way to ascertain how far he 
 might safely go in the direction of hilarity. " Making 
 my — oh yes ; I can't complain. I see a great future 
 for my business if it is developed on the right lines, 
 and if too many adventurers do not take it up." 
 
 " It requires too much imagination to turn out 
 a success in everybody's hands," said Amber. 
 
 " Imagination ! " said he. " My dear Miss Amber, 
 it requires nothing but imagination. In these days 
 advertising is the greatest power that exists. It is, 
 counting all its branches, the most important British 
 industry. There's nothing that cannot be accom- 
 plished by discreet advertising." 
 
 " You can sell a soap by it at any rate," said 
 Lady Severn. 
 
 " Oh, soap-selling and pill-selling are too easy to 
 need any of the more delicate methods," said Mr. 
 Bateman . " Everybody — nearly everybody — wants 
 soap and no one can live without medicine — some 
 people live on nothing else. Of course I don't 
 trouble myself over the rough-and-tumble advertising 
 of drugs. As I told you last week, I intend to 
 proceed on a higher plane. I leave posters and 
 sandwich men and other antediluvian methods for 
 
58 According to Plato 
 
 others. I am determined never to forget that I am 
 an artist and that I was once in a cavalry regiment." 
 
 " Have you struck out anything new since you 
 told us of your scheme for pushing things on by 
 holding them up to ridicule ? " asked Amber. 
 
 " Oh, you allude to what I did for the Technical 
 School of Literature. You know, of course, that 
 I only got that ridiculed into notice because of the 
 interest you took in it, Miss Amber. But I've 
 undertaken to see a young chap into Parliament by 
 the same means. He is really such a foolish young 
 man I believe that nothing could keep him out of 
 Parliament in the long run ; but he wants to get 
 in at the next General Election, so we haven't much 
 time to spare. I got him to make a Vegetarian 
 Speech a fortnight ago, and then I arranged with 
 a number of excellent newspapers to ridicule all 
 that he had said. They are at it to-day all over 
 the country." 
 
 " His name is Thornleigh, and he said that no 
 one could wear leather boots and remain a Christian," 
 cried Amber. 
 
 " There, you see ! " said Mr. Bateman proudly. 
 " He has already become known to you — yes, and 
 he shall be known to every man, woman, and child 
 in England. The Vegetarians are taking him up, 
 and he'll become more ridiculous every day until 
 his name is a by-word. You can't keep a man out 
 of Parliament whose name is a by-word throughout 
 
According to Plato 59 
 
 the length and breadth of the country. Then I've 
 a young woman who simply wants to get her name 
 into the papers. It's marvellous how universal this 
 aspiration is. Anyhow I think I can promise her 
 a good show." 
 
 " She has only to kill a baby," suggested Mr. 
 Galmyn in a flash of inspiration. 
 
 " No more brilliant suggestion could be made," 
 said Mr. Bateman. " But it does more credit to 
 your heart than to your head, Galmyn, my friend. 
 If you sit down and give the matter that thoughtful 
 consideration it deserves, I think you will agree with 
 me that the goal aimed at can be reached by equally 
 legitimate means and with less risk. I am going 
 to put up the young woman at the next meeting of 
 the County Council's Licensing Committee to oppose 
 the renewal of any singing and dancing licenses 
 whatsoever. That is the least expensive and most 
 effective way of pushing forward a nonentity with 
 aspirations. She will soon come to be looked upon 
 as an intelligent woman, and the newspapers will 
 publish her opinion upon the conduct of the War 
 Office as well as upon the management of children." 
 
 " You don't think that you are too sanguine, 
 Mr. Bateman ? " suggested Lady Severn. 
 
 " I prefer to understate rather than exaggerate 
 the possibilities of such a step as I have suggested. 
 Lady Severn," said Mr. Bateman. " And, moreover, 
 I will do my best to prevent my client from writing 
 
6o According to Plato 
 
 a novel. Writing a novel rather gives away the 
 show. Then another client whom I have just 
 secured to-day is the mother of two very ordinary 
 daughters. The mother is vulgar and wealthy, and 
 the daughters wear birds in their toques. They 
 know no one in society, and yet before six months 
 have gone by you will find that no column of society 
 gossip will be considered complete that does not 
 contain some reference to their movements, and they 
 will probably marry baronets — perhaps peers. I 
 have also got on my books a young American lady, 
 who has set her heart on a peer, poor thing ! " 
 
 " Poor thing ? Does that refer to the lady or 
 to the peer ? " asked Amber. 
 
 " Possibly to both, Miss Amber. Anyway I'm 
 going to start the campaign by denying on authority 
 that any engagement exists between the young 
 lady and a still younger duke. Now I need 
 scarcely say that the desire to know more about 
 a young lady who is not engaged to marry a duke 
 is practically universal. Well, I'll take good care to 
 let the public know more about my client, and she 
 may be engaged to marry the duke after all — 
 perhaps she may even marry a member of the Stock 
 Exchange itself But you mustn't suppose that my 
 clients are exclusively ladies.'' 
 
 " Ladies ? ladies ? Oh no, Mr. Bateman, I am 
 sure we should never suppose that they were ladies^" 
 said Lady Severn^ 
 
According to Plato 6i 
 
 " They are not," said Mr. Bateman. " Only a 
 few days ago an honest, so obscure, tradesman placed 
 himself in my hands. The fact is that he has laid 
 in an absurdly large stock of High Church literature 
 as well as ornaments, and he cannot get rid of them. 
 The stupid man has not acumen enough to perceive 
 that all he has to do in order to get his name into 
 every paper in the Kingdom, with a portrait in 
 the weeklies and a stereo-block in the evening 
 editions, is to disturb a Low Church congregation, 
 and insist on being prosecuted as a brawler. If he 
 succeeds in getting prosecuted into popularity he 
 may double his already large stock and yet be 
 certain of getting rid of it all within a week of his 
 first appearance at the police court." 
 
 "You are certainly making an art of the business, 
 Mr. Bateman," said Amber. " I had no idea when 
 I suggested to you the possibilities of an advertising 
 agency that you would develop it to such an extent." 
 
 " Nor had I, Miss Amber. But I have really 
 only reported progress to you in a few cases I have 
 now before me. I have said nothing about the lady 
 manicurist to whom I am giving a show by means 
 of an action for libel ; nor have I told you of the 
 tooth paste to which ,1 am going to give a start 
 through the legitimate agency of a breach of promise 
 case. The falling out between the two litigants — 
 who, I may mention incidentally " 
 
 " Dentally," suggested Mr. Galmyn in a low tone. 
 
62 According to Plato 
 
 " I beg your pardon. Oh yes, of course. Well, 
 dentally — to be sure it's a tooth paste — yes, and 
 incidentally the litigants are the proprietors of the 
 article. Their difference arose not upon the actual 
 merits of the tooth paste, for every love-letter that 
 will be read in court will contain a handsome ac- 
 knowledgment of the fact that the article is superior 
 to any in the market — no, the misunderstanding 
 arose through — as the counsel for the defence will 
 allege — the lady's head having been completely 
 turned by the compliments which she received from 
 her friends upon the marvellous change in her 
 appearance since she was induced to use the Tivoli 
 Tootsicum, the new preparation for the teeth and 
 gums. Oh, believe me, the ordinary system of 
 advertising is obsolete. By the way, I wonder if 
 you know any one who is acquainted with a young 
 Australian lately come to London. His name is 
 Mr. Winwood — Pierce Winwood." 
 
 " Why, Guy Overton was talking to us to-day about 
 this very person," said Amber. " Is it possible that 
 he has placed himself in your hands, Mr. Bateman ? " 
 
 " Not yet — not yet. I only heard about him 
 yesterday. I hope that he will enter his name on my 
 books. I am very anxious to get a good Colonial 
 clientele. The way the chances of first-class Colonials 
 have been frittered away in this country makes 
 the heart of any one with the true feelings of 
 an Imperialist to bleed. I know that I can do 
 
According to Plato 63 
 
 ever>'thing for this Mr. Winwood, but, of course, 
 though I can advertise others, I cannot advertise 
 myself — no, I can only trust to my friends to 
 do that for me." 
 
 " So that on the whole you have your hands 
 pretty full just now ? " said Amber. 
 
 " Pretty full ? My dear Miss Amber, if I were 
 engaged in no other branch of my business but the 
 Complete Prospectus List, I should still have my 
 hands full. I did not mention this list, by the way. 
 Well, I think it will place in my hands at once the 
 most important prospectus-addressing business in 
 the kingdom. Good heavens ! when one thinks of 
 the thousands upon thousands of pounds at present 
 being squandered in prospectus posting, one is led to 
 wonder if there is any real knowledge of their business 
 on the part of company promoters ! At present they 
 allow their prospectuses to be thrown broadcast 
 around ; so that on an average it may be said that 
 nine-tenths of these documents fall into the hands of 
 intelligent — that is to say, moderately intelligent — 
 people who, of course, see at once through the schemes. 
 Now it is clear that to let the prospectuses fall into 
 hands of intelligent people does positive harm." 
 
 " Not if they decline to be drawn," suggested 
 Mr. Galmyn. 
 
 " I am discussing the question from the stand- 
 point of the promoters, you forget, my dear Galmyn. 
 It is plain that if the intelligent people, who see 
 
64 According to Plato 
 
 through the schemes, talk to their friends about 
 the flotations, they do the promoters' position 
 harm. Now, with the list which I am compiling, 
 it will be impossible for a prospectus to go astray, 
 for my list will contain only the names of widows 
 left with small means which they are anxious to 
 increase, orphans left without trustees, small shop- 
 keepers, governesses, half-pay officers, clerks, and 
 clergymen — in short, only such people as know 
 nothing about business, and who invariably skip 
 all the small print in a prospectus, whereas, I need 
 scarcely say, the small print is the only part of 
 a prospectus that an intelligent person reads. The 
 list that I am compiling is taking up a great deal of 
 time, but I will guarantee that it does not contain the 
 names of half a dozen intelligent people. The only 
 surprising thing is that such a list was not compiled 
 long ago. Oh ! you must pardon my egotism. 
 I have bored you to a point of extinction, but I 
 knew that you would be interested in hearing of 
 my progress. I can never forget that it was you 
 who told me that I should not waste my time, 
 but take up some enterprise demanding the exercise 
 of such talents as I possess. I hope, should you 
 meet this Mr. Pierce Winwood, you will mention 
 my name to him — casually, of course — as casually 
 as possible. Good afternoon. Lady Severn. Good 
 afternoon. Miss Amber. Are you coming my way, 
 Galmyn — I can give you a lift ? " 
 
According to Plato 65 
 
 " No ; I'm going in just the opposite direction," 
 said Mr. Galmyn. 
 
 Then Mr. Bateman smiled his way to the door. 
 
 " What a bounder ! " murmured the other man. 
 
 " He has found congenial employment, certainly," 
 said Lady Severn. " Oh, Amber, Amber, your 
 name is Frankenstein." 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 OOME days had actually passed before Amber 
 '^ Severn read the " time-study " on the subject 
 of Platonic Affection, which had been confided 
 to her by her friend Josephine. She read the 
 quickly written and vaguely worded treatise with 
 alternate smiles and frowns, and the last words 
 that it contained called forth a very becoming rose 
 mantle of blushes. 
 
 " It is so like Joe ! " she muttered. " So very 
 like Joe. And it's all wrong — all wrong ! " 
 
 She had thrown herself in her dressing-gown on 
 the sofa in her boudoir, hoping to have half an 
 hour's doze before dressing to go out to dinner ; 
 and she had found the document in the pocket 
 of the luxurious garment of quilted satin and lace, 
 which suited her so well that her maid had often 
 lamented the fact that the convenances of modern 
 English society precluded her being seen within its 
 folds by any one except her mother and her maid. 
 
 " It is so like Joe ! And it is meant as a com- 
 mentary upon my friendships. But it is wrong — 
 wrong ! " 
 
 This was her thought as she lay upon her sofa, 
 
 66 
 
According to Plato 67 
 
 until the pillows among which she had thrown 
 herself surged up all about her as though they 
 were billows of the sea. 
 
 And then, instead of going to sleep, she began 
 to review three or four of the friendships which she 
 had formed during the past few years — friendships 
 which might easily have degenerated into quite 
 another feeling if they had not been built on a 
 foundation very different from that which Josephine 
 West had assumed to be the basis of friendship 
 according to Plato. 
 
 There was Arthur Galmyn, for instance. He and 
 she had become very friendly when they had first 
 met the year before the appearance of Mr. Richmond. 
 He had been at Oxford with her brother, and had 
 won one of those pernicious prizes which are offered 
 for the best poem of the year — to be more exact, for 
 the poem which is most highly approved of by 
 the adjudicating authorities of the university. She 
 quickly perceived that the effect of winning this 
 prize was, upon young Mr. Galmyn, most disquieting ; 
 for he had actually settled down as a poet on the 
 strength of winning it. 
 
 Instead of saying, " I have written the poem 
 which has met with the approval of the most highly 
 graduated pedants in the world, therefore I am no 
 poet," he assumed that pedant was another word 
 for prophet, and that their judgment had conferred 
 immortality upon him, and, perhaps, even upon 
 
68 According to Plato 
 
 themselves ; for whenever his name came to be 
 spoken in the awful whisper which people employ- 
 in mentioning the name of a poet, the names of the 
 adjudicators of the prize would also be mentioned. 
 
 He hoped to go through life writing poetry — not , 
 the poetry which appears on a Christmas card or 
 imprinted on the little slip of paper which never loses 
 the curl that it originally gained by being enwound 
 about the almond in the after dinner cracker — not 
 even the poetry which is sung, when wedded to 
 melody, by the light of a piano candle — no, but 
 that form of poetry which is absolutely an unsale- 
 able commodity in the public market, unless it is 
 of that high quality which appeared over the signa- 
 ture of " Alengon Hope," to which Amber had 
 frequently called the inattention of her father. 
 
 It was just when he was in this critical position 
 that he came under the influence of Amber Severn. 
 They had become ostentatiously platonic friends. 
 To be sure he had, after their second meeting, 
 addressed to her a sonnet written in exquisite accord- 
 ance with the true Petrarchian model, embodying 
 a fervent hope in the last line of the sestet — the 
 two quatrains (each ending with a semicolon) had 
 been mainly descriptive — but she had explained 
 to him that she would take a lenient view of this 
 action on his part if he would promise to do his 
 best to resist in the future the inspiration which 
 had forced him into it. 
 
According to Plato 69 
 
 He had promised her all that she asked, but he 
 gave her to understand that he did so only through 
 fear of alienation from her. 
 
 " I shrink from life from Amber alienate," was 
 the last line of the sonnet which he promptly com- 
 posed after she had lectured him ; and then he had 
 settled down into that graceful philosophical friend- 
 ship with her which had sent him on the Stock 
 Exchange before three months had elapsed. 
 
 It took three months to convince him that she 
 was quite right in her suggestion that, instead of 
 spending the best years of his life writing poetry, 
 having nothing to look forward to beyond the 
 perpetual struggle of trying to live within the four 
 hundred pounds a year which represented all his 
 private means, he should endeavour to make a career 
 for himself in some direction where his undoubted 
 gifts of imagination would be appreciated — say the 
 Stock Exchange. 
 
 " My dear Arthur," she had said, " what I fear 
 most for you is the possibility of your making a 
 mercenary marriage. You know as well as I do 
 that it would be ridiculous for you to marry on 
 your present income, and I know your nature 
 sufficiently well to be convinced that you would 
 never be happy so long as you felt that your 
 wife's fortune was supporting you. Don't you agree 
 with me ? " 
 
 He felt that she took too narrow a view of the 
 
yo According to Plato 
 
 conditions under which he could be happy, but he 
 thought it better to nod his acquiescence in the 
 flattering estimate which she had formed of his 
 nature. 
 
 " I knew you would agree with me," she said. 
 " And that's why I urge upon you this step.'' (The 
 step she urged upon him was the Stock Exchange.) 
 " You will have to study hard at first, and I believe 
 that you must begin by trusting nobody — especi- 
 ally avoiding every one who wants to be your 
 friend ; but by this means you will eventually gain 
 not only a competence, not only complete inde- 
 pendence, but such a fortune as will make you a 
 power in the world, and then — well, then you can 
 marry any one you please." 
 
 Although the poem which he considered the best 
 that he had ever written was one in praise of a young 
 woman who had remained true to her love for a 
 poet without a penny, in the face of the opposition 
 of her parents, who wished her to wed a very rich 
 person in a good paying business, he said he was 
 sure that she was right, and he would give her his 
 promise to buy a twenty-five-shilling silk hat the 
 very next day, that being, he was informed, the 
 first step necessary to be taken by any one with 
 aspirations after financial success. 
 
 He had an idea that, after all, he had underrated 
 the practical outlook of the modern young woman. 
 Could it be possible, he asked himself, that, after all, 
 
According to Plato 71 
 
 the penniless poet who wrote on the Petrarchian 
 model was a less attractive figure in the eyes of a 
 girl — even of a girl who could not be seen by any 
 one without suggesting the thought of a flower — 
 perhaps a lily — than the man with a million invested 
 in various excellent securities ? 
 
 He feared that it was impossible for him to arrive 
 at any other, conclusion than this one which was 
 forced upon him ; and the worst of the matter was 
 that he found that all his sympathies were on the 
 side of the modern young woman, although he would 
 have died sooner than withdraw a single line of the 
 poem which he had written, holding up to admiration 
 the one who refused to leave her penniless poet for 
 the man of millions. 
 
 He bought a fine silk hat the next day, and forth- 
 with wrote a Chaunt Royal, bidding farewell to 
 the Muse. He felt that such an act of renuncia- 
 tion on his part demanded celebration on the 
 analogy of the Lenten Carnival. But when his days 
 of riotous indulgence in all the exotic forms of 
 French verse had come to an end, he gave him- 
 self up to a consideration of his bank book, and 
 found, to his amazement, that his accumulations, 
 including a legacy of two thousand pounds which 
 he had received from the executors of his 
 godmother, amounted to close upon four thousand 
 pounds. 
 
 For over two years his account had been 
 
72 According to Plato 
 
 increasing, the trustees of the estate of his father 
 (deceased) having been in the habit of lodging the 
 quarterly payments of his income (less expenses) to 
 his credit, and yet he was receiving no penny of 
 interest on all this money. 
 
 He was innocent enough to ask the young man 
 at the bank how it was that no circular had been 
 sent to him letting him know that his account was 
 overgrown. If it had been overdrawn would he 
 have been informed of the fact ? 
 
 The young man had only smiled and said that 
 he was sure the matter had been overlooked ; for 
 there was nothing that the bank found so embarrass- 
 ing as large balances bearing no interest. 
 
 In the course of a few weeks he would have 
 blushed to ask such a question as he had put to the 
 clerk. He began to study the methods of finance 
 for the first time, and had almost mastered the art 
 embodied in a gold-mine prospectus — it is the 
 Petrarchian sonnet of the money market — before he 
 had been a month at the work. By a rigid attention 
 to Amber's precept of placing the most implicit 
 distrust in every one connected with finance, he had 
 made a very good start for himself 
 
 His principle was an excellent one. He made 
 several friends among those disinterested financiers 
 who give advice gratis as to what stocks to buy, and 
 he had never failed to act contrary to the tips which 
 they had given him ; so that when a few days later 
 
According to Plato 73 
 
 they came to him with assumed long faces and frank 
 admissions of fallibility in the past, but of promises 
 of certainty for the future, he had shown them that 
 he was made of the stuff that goes to the com- 
 position of a real financier, by being in no way 
 put out, and disdaining to level a single reproach 
 at them. 
 
 " Distrust your best friend," was the motto which 
 he placed in a conspicuous place on his mantelpiece, 
 and by observing it he had made some hundreds of 
 pounds in the course of a few weeks. 
 
 And then he made a stroke ; for on hearing from 
 a great authority on the Stock Exchange that there 
 was going to be no war in the Transvaal, and that 
 the rumours regarding strained relations between 
 that State and Great Britain were simply due to 
 the fact that some members of the Cabinet had 
 given orders to their brokers to buy up for them all 
 South African stock the moment that it fell to a 
 certain figure — on hearing this on so excellent an 
 authority, Mr. Galmyn had felt so sure that war was 
 imminent that he did not hesitate for a moment in 
 joining a syndicate for the purchase of the full 
 cinematograph rights in the campaign. 
 
 When the war became inevitable he sold out his 
 shares at a profit of two hundred per cent., and the 
 next week he learned that the War Office had 
 prohibited all cinematographers from joining the 
 troops ordered to South Africa. 
 
74 According to Plato 
 
 He rubbed his hands and felt that he was a 
 born financier. 
 
 For some months afterwards he had been content, 
 Amber knew, with very small earnings, consequently 
 his losses had been proportionately small ; and yet 
 now, as she lay back upon her sofa she recalled 
 with pride (she fancied) that he had never written 
 to her more than a single sonnet. He had never 
 again given expression to a sentiment that would 
 bear to be construed into a departure from the 
 lines of that friendship which was the ideal of Plato. 
 
 And yet Josephine could write that " time-study " 
 suggesting that such an ideal was impracticable if 
 not absolutely unattainable. 
 
 She lost all patience with her friend. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 TDEFORE her maid came to her Amber had 
 ^-^ reflected also upon the cases of Mr. Guy 
 Overton and Mr. Willie Bateman, and the conscious- 
 ness of the fact that neither of these young men had 
 tried, after the first attempt, to make love to her 
 was a source of the greatest gratification to her. 
 (To such a point of self-deception may the imagina- 
 tion of a young woman, born in an atmosphere of 
 science, lead her.) 
 
 Guy Overton was a young man who was certainly 
 in no need to try the Stock Exchange as a means 
 of livelihood. He was the only son of Richard 
 Overton, the once well-known Australian, who had 
 been accidentally killed when acting as his own 
 stevedore beside the hold of one of his steamers. 
 Guy had inherited, from this excellent father, a 
 business which he had speedily sold for a trifle over 
 half a million, and a spirit of thrift which was very 
 unusual, people said, on the part of the idle son of 
 a self-made man — a self-made man is a man who 
 has made himself wealthy at the expense of others. 
 
 It was a great disappointment to his many friends 
 to find out, as they did very soon after his father's 
 
 75 
 
76 According to Plato 
 
 death, that young Mr. Overton was in no way- 
 disposed to fling his money about in the light- 
 hearted way characteristic of the youth who becomes 
 a prodigal by profession. He could not see, he 
 said, why he should buy spavined horses simply 
 because he was half a millionaire. Of course, he 
 knew it was an understood thing that spavined 
 horses were to be got rid of upon light-hearted 
 aspiring sons of fathers with humble beginnings in 
 life ; but he rather thought that, for the present at 
 least, he would try to pass his time apart from the 
 cheering companionship of the spavined horse. 
 
 And then as regards the purchase of that couple 
 of cases of choice Manilla cigars — the hemp 
 yarn which entered largely into their composition 
 undoubtedly did come from- Manilla — he expressed 
 the opinion to the friend who had thoughtfully 
 suggested the transaction, that, until he felt more 
 firmly on his feet in carrying out the role of the 
 complete prodigal, he would struggle to repress his 
 natural tendency to smoke the sweeping of the rope 
 walks of the Philippine Islands. 
 
 In short, young Mr. Overton was fortunate 
 enough to obtain, not by slow degrees, but in a 
 single month after his father's death, a sound 
 practical reputation for being a skinflint. 
 
 It was his study to justify all that was said of 
 him by his disappointed friends in respect of the 
 closeness of his pockets, 
 
According to Plato 11 
 
 He lived in chambers and kept no man-servant. 
 
 Why should he pay a hundred a year — sixty 
 pounds in wages and, say, forty in board and 
 lodging — for having his trousers properly stretched, 
 he asked of those friends of his who were ready to 
 recommend to him several trustworthy men-servants. 
 He rather thought that it would pay him better to 
 buy a new pair of trousers every week. He knew 
 a place where you could buy a capital pair of trousers 
 for thirteen-and-six. 
 
 He jobbed a horse. 
 
 He couldn't see why he should have a horse 
 eating its head off in a rack-rented stable necessitat- 
 ing the keeping of a groom at twenty-five shillings 
 a week, when he could hire a horse for all the riding 
 that was necessary for- his health for five shillings 
 the two hours. 
 
 He knew of a good restaurant (Italian) in a back 
 street where the maximum charge for dinner was 
 half a crown, and it was to this establishment he in- 
 vited his particular friends when the prodigal's desire 
 to feast became irresistible, overwhelming his better 
 nature which lent him promptings towards frugality. 
 
 He recommended the Chianti of this secluded 
 dining-hall. It was a good sound wine, with a 
 distinct tendency toward body, and not wholly 
 without flavour — a flavour that one got accustomed 
 to after a period of probation. Only it was not 
 well to eat olives with it. 
 
78 According to Plato 
 
 He was, on the whole, a pleasant, shrewd, un- 
 affected man of twenty-eight when he was pre- 
 sented to Amber, and, on her acceptance of a 
 pretty little Italian enamel from him, he yielded 
 to her influence. 
 
 She remembered with pleasure (she thought) that 
 he had only upon one occasion spoken of love in 
 her presence. Her recollection was not at fault. 
 Only once had he hinted at certain aspirations on 
 his part, and then he and she had become good 
 friends. He had submitted to her influence suffi- 
 ciently far to promise her that he would cease to 
 live a life of idle frugality. A course of practical 
 literature was what she prescribed for him, and he 
 at once joined the Technical School just started by 
 Mr. Owen Glendower Richmond. 
 
 This was, she reflected, a great triumph for platonic 
 friendship ; and yet Guy Overton was only at the 
 other end of the room when Josephine had written 
 that paper of hers in dispraise of this very sentiment. 
 
 Amber was inclined to be impatient in thinking 
 of her friend's scarcely veiled sneers. And then she 
 began to think if it might not be possible that her 
 friend had in her mind her own case — the case of 
 Josephine West and Ernest Clifton — rather than 
 the cases of Amber Severn- and Guy Overton, Amber 
 Severn and Arthur Galmyn, Amber Severn and — 
 yes, it was quite possible that the cynicism — if it 
 was cynicism — in the " time-study " was prompted 
 
According to Plato 79 
 
 by the real feeling of the writer in regard to her 
 relations with Mr. Ernest Clifton. 
 
 The reflection had its consolations ; but Amber 
 thought she loved her friend Josephine too dearly to be 
 consoled at her expense. Though she herself was, she 
 fancied, perfectly happy in experimentalising, so to 
 speak, in the science of friendship, she was too wise to 
 assume that her friend would be equally well satisfied 
 to attain such results as she. Amber, had achieved. 
 
 She was led to ask herself if it was possible that 
 Josephine was actually in love with Mr. Ernest 
 Clifton. And then she went on to ask herself if it 
 was possible that Mr. Ernest Clifton was in love 
 with Josephine West. 
 
 Without coming to a conclusion in her considera- 
 tion of either question, she knew that if Josephine 
 really loved that particular man, her views on the 
 subject of platonic friendship might be pretty much 
 as she had defined them — precipitating the acid of 
 cynicism at present held in solution in the series 
 of phrases written down on the paper. 
 
 Amber had now and again suspected that between 
 Josephine and Mr. Clifton there existed a stronger 
 feeling than that of mere friendship. But Josephine 
 had said no word to her on this subject, and 
 certainly none of their common friends had said any- 
 thing that tended to strengthen her suspicions. Still, 
 the announcement of the engagement of some of her 
 acquaintance had invariably come upon her with 
 
8o According to Plato 
 
 surprise, a fact which proved to her — for she was 
 thoroughly logical and always ready to draw faith- 
 ful deductions even to her own disadvantage — that 
 she had not observed with any great care the 
 phenomena of love in its embryotic state and its 
 gradual growth toward ' the idiotic. Things had 
 been going on under her very eyes without her 
 perceiving them, in regard to other young men and 
 maidens, so that it was quite possible that Josephine 
 had come, without Amber's knowing anything of the 
 matter, to entertain a feeling of tenderness for 
 Ernest Clifton, and had written in that spirit of 
 cynical raillery on the subject of platonic friendship. 
 Of course if this were so, and if at the same time 
 Ernest Clifton had given her no sign that he was 
 affected toward her in the same way, that circum- 
 stance would not of itself be sufficient (Amber knew) 
 to prevent Josephine's taking a cynical view of the 
 question that had formed the subject of the " time- 
 study " at the technical school. 
 
 ***** 
 
 It was at this point in her consideration of the 
 whole question that her maid opened the door gently 
 and began to make preparations for her toilet. Her 
 father had not yet perfected his machinery to dis- 
 charge the offices of a maid. Where was the electrical 
 device that would lace up a dress at the back ? 
 
 " I shall keep my eyes upon Joe and Mr. Clifton 
 this evening, and perhaps I shall learn something," 
 
According to Plato 8i 
 
 was the thought of Amber while her hair was being 
 teased into the bewitching simplicity of form which 
 gave her a distinction of her own at a period when 
 some artificiality was making itself apparent in the 
 disposal of the hair. It took a great deal more 
 time to achieve Amber's simplicity than it did to 
 work out the elaborate devices of the young women 
 who had studied the fashion plate for the month. 
 
 In less than an hour she was driving with her 
 mother to Ranelagh, where they were to dine with 
 one Mr. Shirley, a member of Parliament who was 
 known to have aspirations after a place in the 
 Government and who was fully qualified to aspire, 
 being a bachelor. Amber knew that Josephine 
 would be of the party, and she was nearly sure that 
 Mr. Clifton would also be present. 
 
 When people talked of Mr. Clifton they invariably 
 alluded to him as a long-headed fellow. Some of 
 the men went so far as to say that he knew what he 
 was about. Others said that he might be looked 
 on as the leading exponent of the jumping cat. 
 
 Amber, however, knew nothing of his ability. 
 She only knew that of all the acquaintance which 
 Josephine and she had in common, Mr. Clifton was 
 the man of whom Josephine spoke most seldom. It 
 was on this account she had a suspicion that he 
 might be held in some manner accountable for the 
 tones of Josephine's " time-study." 
 
 The lawn at Ranelagh was crowded on this 
 
 6 
 
82 According to Plato 
 
 particular Sunday, for the June gloom that had 
 prevailed during the three preceding days had 
 vanished, and the evening sunshine was making 
 everything lovely. The general opinion that pre- 
 vailed was that the pretty way in which the guests 
 of the sun had dressed themselves to greet him 
 made it worth his while, so to speak, to shine ; on the 
 same principle that a host and hostess cannot but 
 be put into a smiling state of mind when their friends 
 have arrived to do them honour in their very best. 
 
 The brilliant green of the lawn reflected the 
 greatest credit, people thought, upon the good taste 
 of nature in providing a background for all the tints 
 of all the fabrics that glowed upon it. And the 
 consciousness that their efforts to clothe themselves 
 tastefully were reciprocated by the sun and the 
 summer, was very gratifying to a considerable por- 
 tion of the crowd, who perhaps had their own reasons 
 for thinking themselves included in the general 
 scheme of nature. They could not imagine any 
 scheme of nature independent enough to ignore the 
 shimmer of the satin or the flutter of the muslin. 
 
 And this was why Amber thought she had never 
 seen together so many well-satisfied faces as those 
 among which she moved down the lawn to the soft 
 music of the band. And among all the well-satisfied 
 faces not one wore this expression more airily than did 
 the face of Guy Overton — yes, when she appeared. 
 The face of Mr. Randolph Shirley, in welcoming his 
 
According to Plato 83 
 
 guests, also glowed with satisfaction — self-satisfaction. 
 An aspiring politician used long ago to be satisfied 
 when he got his foot on the first rung of the ladder ; 
 but the lift system has long ago superseded the 
 outside ladder. A politician of to-day has no idea 
 of climbing up rung by rung ; he expects to enter 
 the lift in the lobby, and, taking a seat among 
 cushions, to be rumbled up to the top floor by 
 the jerk of a rope. 
 
 The correct working of this system is altogether 
 dependent upon one's knowledge of the right rope 
 to pull, but Mr. Shirley was beginning to know the 
 ropes, so he was pleased to welcome Miss West, the 
 daughter of an under-secretary who was almost certain 
 of a chief secretaryship before the end of the year. 
 
 It was while Mr. Shirley was welcoming Miss 
 West and her mother, that Guy Overton brought up 
 to Amber a man with a very brown face, saying : 
 
 " I want to present to you my friend, Pierce 
 Winwood, whom I was speaking of a while ago — 
 at the school, you know." 
 
 " I know. I shall be delighted," said Amber. 
 
 He brought the man forward. He looked about 
 the same age as Guy himself, and Amber expressed 
 to his face something of the delight which she felt 
 to meet him. He was not quite so fluent when he 
 opened his lips ; as a matter of fact he seemed to be 
 shy almost to a point of embarrassment, and to find 
 that the act of changing his stick from one hand to 
 
84 According to Plato 
 
 the other, and then treating it as a pendulum, not 
 only failed to relieve his embarrassment, but was 
 actually a source of embarrassment to people on 
 each side of him. 
 
 Amber wondered if it might not be possible for 
 her to add this young man to her already long list 
 of those whom she was influencing for their own 
 good through the medium of a colourless friendship. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 " T AM so glad to meet you, Mr. Winwood," she 
 
 -*• said. " Mr. Overton mentioned that he thought 
 your father was acquainted with mine long ago." 
 
 " I was under that impression — in fact, I am 
 nearly sure — however " 
 
 Amber gave him a chance of finishing his sen- 
 tence, but he did not take advantage of her offer. 
 
 " You think that it is possible he may have made 
 a mistake ? " she said. 
 
 He did not answer immediately. He followed 
 with his eyes the irritating sweep of his Malacca cane. 
 
 " I should like to ask Sir Creighton if he has any 
 recollection of my father, before I make any further 
 claims," he said, suddenly looking at her straight in 
 the face. 
 
 " I have already done so," said Amber. 
 
 He was so startled that he coloured beneath 
 the brown surface of his skin. The effect was a 
 picturesque one. 
 
 " And he said that he remembered — that " 
 
 " He said that we should ask you to dinner." 
 
 " Then that's all right," put in Guy Overton, for he 
 could not but notice the expression of disappointment 
 
 8s 
 
86 According to Plato 
 
 on the face of the Australian. And when he 
 noticed that expression, of course Amber noticed it. 
 
 " We hope that you will come and dine with us, 
 Mr. Winwood," she said. 
 
 " That is how things begin — and end — in England, 
 I think," cried Winwood with a laugh that had a 
 note of contempt in its ring. " A dinner is supposed 
 to do duty for welcome as well as conge. I am 
 always wondering which of the two every invitation 
 that I get is meant to be — a welcome or the other. 
 I knew a man who used to say that an invitation to 
 dinner in England is the height of inhospitality." 
 
 " I say, that's a bit of freehand drawing, isn't it ? " 
 said Guy. " You seem to have left your manners in 
 the unclaimed luggage department, Winwood. Be- 
 sides — well, I give a little dinner to my friends now 
 and again — yes, in the Frangipani ; the only place in 
 London where you get the real macaroni. Their 
 Chianti is really not half bad when you get " 
 
 " I understand exactly what Mr. Winwood means, 
 and I quite agree with him : a dinner is the most 
 cordial form of inhospitality," said Amber. " But 
 if " 
 
 " I really must ask your pardon. Miss Severn," inter- 
 posed Winwood. " I did not mean quite that " 
 
 " You meant that you gathered from what I said 
 that my father had no recollection of yours." 
 
 " Exactly." 
 
 " Then you were — not quite right. My father said 
 
According to Plato 87 
 
 he was sure that — that — yes, that you were certain to 
 be able to convince him that he knew your father." 
 
 " Ah ! " 
 
 " I shall ask my mother to send you a card for 
 — but I suppose you are like the rest of us, you 
 need at least a month's notice ? " 
 
 " I only need a day's notice, Miss Severn." 
 
 " You shall have a week at the least." 
 
 " And you can get up your affidavits in the mean- 
 time," suggested Mr. Overton. 
 
 " I think I shall convince Sir Creighton of my 
 identity without the adventitious aid of affidavits," 
 said Winwood. 
 
 " My solicitor — an excellent chap, and so cheap ! 
 — says that it is only people who know nothing 
 about the law courts who say that there is no other 
 form of perjury except an affidavit. He once knew 
 a man who made an affidavit that turned out to 
 be true, though no one believed it at the time." 
 
 It was at this point that Mr. Shirley came up 
 and took away Winwood to present him to Miss 
 West, explaining that he had arranged his table 
 so that he was to sit next to Miss West. 
 
 " I hope that he is putting me beside you," said 
 Mr. Overton with a look of longing that was not 
 strictly according to Plato. He now and again 
 made these lapses. They were very irritating to 
 Amber (she thought). 
 
 But his hope in regard to the regulation of the 
 
88 According to Plato 
 
 table was not destined to be realised, for Mr. Shirley 
 brought up to her a young man who was the son 
 of the most important member of the Cabinet. 
 Mr. Shirley knew how to choose his guests and how 
 to place them. 
 
 " I have asked Lord Lullworth to sit beside you, 
 Miss Severn," he said, and immediately went off 
 to welcome the last two of his guests who were 
 coming down the lawn. 
 
 So that it was to a certain Miss Craythorpe — she 
 was the daughter of the Under-Secretary of the 
 Annexation Department (Mr. Shirley had reduced 
 the disposal of his guests to an exact science) that 
 Guy had an opportunity of confiding the remarkable 
 chance offered to him the day before — the chance 
 of backing, at a theatre, a comedy by a dramatist who 
 had made fourteen consecutive failures at London 
 theatres alone. But although the agent of the actor- 
 manager, who had just acquired for a considerable 
 sum of money the rights of the new comedy, had 
 pointed out to him that it was almost sure to be a 
 success, the fact being that it was beyond the bounds 
 of possibility for any dramatist to make fifteen con- 
 secutive failures, he had decided to decline the offer. 
 
 " I prefer to spend my money myself," this possible 
 patron of art explained to the young woman as 
 soon as he had settled down in his chair beside her. 
 
 Miss Craythorpe thought him very amusing, and 
 even went the length of saying so : she had been 
 
According to Plato 89 
 
 told that Mr. Overton had a{: least half a million of 
 a fortune. She had also heard it mentioned casually 
 that he was not given to spending his money. This 
 information was stimulating. 
 
 And all the time that Amber Severn was pre- 
 tending to give her attention to the description of 
 the polo match of the day before, with which she was 
 favoured by the young man next to her, she was 
 looking across the table at Ernest Clifton, wondering 
 if he was wishing that, instead of being by the side of 
 Josephine's mother, he were by the side of Josephine 
 herself. She also looked down the table to where 
 Josephine was sitting, and wondered if she was wishing 
 that she were by the side of Ernest Clifton, instead 
 of that rather abrupt Mr. Pierce Win wood. 
 
 She was of the opinion, being something of a 
 philosopher, with more than the average philosopher's 
 experience, that society is usually made up of people 
 who are evermore longing to be by the side of other 
 people, and that what is meant by good manners is 
 trying to appear content with the people who have 
 been placed beside you. 
 
 Josephine certainly had good manners ; she 
 seemed to be more than content with Mr. Winwood. 
 She seemed actually to be interested in his conver- 
 sation — nay, absorbed ; and as for Ernest Clifton — 
 well, Amber knew enough of men and women to 
 be well aware of the fact that if Ernest Clifton was 
 full of longing to be by the side of Josephine, his 
 
90 According to Plato 
 
 first impulse would be to make himself as agreeable 
 as possible to Josephine's mother. 
 
 And this was just what Ernest Clifton was doing. 
 He was one of those clever people who are actually 
 better pleased to have a chance of being agreeable 
 to the mother than to the daughter, knowing that 
 the mother may be captured by the art of being 
 agreeable, whereas the daughter is rarely influenced 
 by this rarest of the arts. 
 
 And then Amber, somewhat to her own surprise, 
 ceased to give any attention to the people at the 
 other side of the table or at the other end of the table, 
 for she found herself constrained to give all her atten- 
 tion to Lord Lullworth and his polo. She found that 
 he had at his command a phraseology which, without 
 being highly scientific, was extremely picturesque ; and 
 besides that, he hated Mr. Cupar. Mr. Cupar was 
 the novelist who wrote with the shriek of a street 
 preacher, and was for one season widely discussed. 
 Lord Lullworth usually read one book a year, but 
 after reading Mr. Cupar's latest, he feared that he 
 would have to give up the practice. 
 
 A common enemy constitutes a bond of friendship 
 far more enduring than any other the wit of man — 
 or woman — can devise, so that after Lord Lullworth 
 had pointed out to her some of the ridiculous mis- 
 takes which Mr. Cupar had made with all the 
 ostentation of a great teacher — mistakes about 
 horses that a child would never have fallen into, and 
 
According to Plato 91 
 
 mistakes about the usages of society that no one 
 who had ever seen anything decent would ever fall 
 into — she found herself more than interested in 
 Lord Lullworth, and by no means felt inclined to 
 share Guy Overton's regret that he, Guy Overton, 
 had not been beside her. 
 
 She began to wonder if it might not be possible to 
 annex Lord Lullworth — for his own good — as she 
 had annexed Guy Overton, Arthur Galmyn, Willie 
 Bateman, and a few others, with such profitable 
 results — to them all. She thought, after he had 
 agreed with her on some points that were usually 
 regarded as contentious, that he was, perhaps, the 
 nicest of all the men in whom she had interested 
 herself — for their own good. 
 
 Before the glacial period of the dinner had arrived, 
 they had become friendly enough to quarrel. 
 
 It was over the Technical School ot Literature. 
 She wondered if she could induce Lord Lullworth to 
 join, and he assured her that she needn't allow the 
 question to occupy her thoughts for a moment, for 
 there wasn't the slightest chance of his joining so 
 ridiculous a scheme. She replied warmly on behalf 
 of the system of imparting instruction on what was 
 undoubtedly one of the arts ; and he said he did 
 not believe in machine-made literature. 
 
 Of course she could not be expected to let this 
 pass, and she asked him if he did not believe in 
 machine-made pictures, or machine-made statues. 
 
92 According to Plato 
 
 He told her that he did ; and then laughed. She 
 gave him to understand that she was hurt by his de- 
 chning to take her seriously ; and she became very 
 frigid over her ice, an attitude which, he assured her, 
 was one that no girl anxious to do her best for her 
 host would assume. A right-minded girl approached 
 her ice with geniality, thereby allowing that particular 
 delicacy to " earn its living " — that was the phrase 
 which he employed, and Amber thought it so queer 
 that she allowed herself to glow once more and so 
 to give the ices a chance — a second phrase which 
 originated with him when he heard her laugh. 
 
 By the time the strawberries arrived she was sur- 
 prised to find that she was actually in the position of 
 being under the influence of a man, instead of finding 
 the man drawn under her influence. This was a 
 position to which she was not accustomed ; therefore 
 it had a certain fascination of its own, and, by thinking 
 of the fascination of the position, she was foolish enough 
 to confound the man with the position and to feel 
 ready to acknowledge that the man was fascinating. 
 
 The babble of the large dining-room almost over- 
 came the soft melody of the band playing on the 
 terrace while the dinner was proceeding ; but when 
 the soft hour of cigarettes had come, there seemed 
 to be a general feeling that the music was worthy 
 of more attention than had yet been given to it. A 
 movement was made to the terrace by Mr. Shirley's 
 party, and at first there was some talk of wraps. 
 
According to Plato 93 
 
 When, however, one got opposite the door and felt 
 the warm breath of the perfect evening upon one's 
 face, no suggestion of the need for a wrap was heard. 
 
 There was a scent of roses and mignonette in the 
 air, and now and again at unaccountable intervals a 
 whiif of the new-made hay from the paddock. The 
 lawns were spread forth in the softest of twilights, 
 and the trees beyond looked very black, for the 
 moonlight was too faint to show even upon the edge 
 of the bourgeoning June foliage. 
 
 " I have got a table for our coffee," said Mr. 
 Shirley, " also some chairs ; try if you can pick up a 
 few more. Lord LuUworth — and you, Overton — get a 
 couple of the easiest cane ones and we shall be all right." 
 
 Thus it was that the sweet companionship of the 
 dinner-table was broken up. Mr. Shirley was too 
 well accustomed to dinner-giving to fancy that one 
 invariably longs to retain in the twilight and among 
 the scent of roses the companion one has had at the 
 dinner-table. And thus it was that Mr. Ernest 
 Clifton found that the only vacant chair was beside 
 Josephine. It took him as much manoeuvring to ac- 
 complish this as would have enabled him, if he had 
 been a military commander, to convince the War Office 
 that he was the right man to conduct a campaign. 
 
 And thus it was that Pierce Winwood found 
 himself by the side of Amber, while Lord Lullworth 
 had fallen quite naturally into pony talk with a young 
 woman who, having been left pretty well off at her 
 
94 According to Plato 
 
 father's death the year before, had started life on her 
 own account with a hunting-stable within easy reach 
 of the Pytchley. 
 
 And then the coffee came, with the sapphire gleam 
 of green Chartreuse here and there, and the topaz 
 twinkle of Benedictine, and the ruby glow of cherry 
 brandy. It was all very artistic. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 I ''HERE was a different note in the chat on the 
 -*- terrace in the twilight from that which had 
 prevailed in the dining-room. In the dining-room 
 people had seemed to be trying to talk down the 
 band, now they were talking with it. The band 
 was making a very sympathetic accompaniment to 
 their chat — nay, it even suggested something of a 
 possible topic, for it was playing the dreamy strains 
 of the " Roses of Love " valse. People could not 
 talk loud when that delicious thing was wafting its 
 melody round them — ensnaring their hearts with 
 that delicate network of woven sounds — breathing 
 half-hushed rapture at intervals and then glowing as 
 the June roses glow in a passion that is half a dream. 
 " I suppose you have lovelier places than Ranelagh 
 in Australia," said Amber as she leant back in her 
 chair. Pierce Winwood was leaning forward in his. 
 " Oh yes, I daresay there are lovelier places in 
 Australia," he replied. " You see, there's a pretty 
 fair amount of room in Australia for places lovely 
 and the opposite. But there's no place out there 
 thafs just the same as this place here on such 
 an evening as this. I used to wonder long ago if 
 
 95 
 
96 According to Plato 
 
 I should ever see Ranelagh under such conditions 
 as these : distinguished men — there are some dis- 
 tinguished men here — and beautiful women, music 
 and moonlight and the scent of roses, and, above 
 all, the consciousness that this is Home — Home. 
 In Australia we think a good deal about this 
 England of ours. People in England have great 
 pride in thinking of Australia as their own, but 
 their pride is nothing compared to that of the 
 Australians in thinking of England as their 
 Home.'' 
 
 " Of course we are all one," said Amber. " But 
 your father could scarcely have told you about 
 Ranelagh ; it did not exist in its present form 
 in his day— that is to say — oh, you see I am 
 assuming that he was in Australia for a good 
 many years." 
 
 " I heard about Ranelagh first from a stock 
 rider on one of my father's farms. He was one 
 of the best chaps in the world. He showed me a 
 prize or two that he had won here in the old 
 days — his old days could not have been more 
 than five or six years ago. I had also a groom 
 who used to play polo here." 
 
 " And people talk about the days of romance 
 being past ! " said Amber. " I daresay you could 
 furnish our School — I wonder if Guy mentioned 
 it to you " 
 
 " Oh yes, he told me all about it." 
 
According to Plato 97 
 
 " You could furnish the romance class with some 
 capital plots to work out, could you not ? " 
 
 " I daresay I could, if I knew all the circumstances 
 that led up to the fragments that came under my 
 notice. But I could not ask the stock driver or 
 the groom how they came to sell their horses and 
 settle down to live on thirty shillings a week in 
 a colony. I could not even ask either of them 
 what was his real name." 
 
 " I suppose that almost every romance begins 
 by a change of name ? " 
 
 He was silent for some moments. Then he 
 threw away the end of the cigar which he had 
 been smoking, and drank the few drops of liqueur 
 which remained in his glass. He drew his chair 
 an inch or two closer to hers, saying, in a low tone : 
 
 " It was only a short time before I left the colony 
 that I had brought under my notice the elements 
 of a curious romance. Would you care to hear it ? " 
 
 " I should like very much. If it is unfinished 
 it might make a good exercise for Mr. Richmond tc 
 set for one of his classes at the School — ' given the 
 romance up to a certain point, required the legitimate 
 and artistic ending ' — that would be the problem." 
 
 " A capital notion, I think. I should like very 
 much myself to know what the legitimate ending 
 should be. But I have noticed now and again that 
 Fate is inclined to laugh at any scheme devised by 
 the most astute of men. That is to say, when we 
 
 7 
 
gS According to Plato 
 
 have in our possession what seems the beginning of 
 a real romance, Fate steps in and brings about the 
 most incongruous ending to the story." 
 
 " That is nearly always what happens. It only 
 proves that romance writers know a great deal better 
 than Fate how to weave the threads of a story into 
 a finished fabric.'' 
 
 "Ah! those 'abhorred shears'! .... I wonder 
 if . . . never mind, I will tell you the romance so 
 far as it came under my notice, and you or your 
 literary adviser, — or perhaps your father — but I don't 
 suppose that Sir Creighton would trouble himself 
 over a miniature romance." 
 
 " Oh, wouldn't he just ? He reads nearly every 
 novel that comes out — especially the French ones." 
 
 " Oh, then I need not hesitate to ask you to place 
 before him the fragment which I acquired in the 
 colony less than a year ago ? " 
 
 " It will be a capital exercise for him — working 
 out the close artistically. The story begins in 
 England, of course ? " 
 
 " Of course. Let me think how it does begin. 
 Yes, it begins in England — at a seaport town. 
 There is a shipbuilding yard. The head of it is, 
 naturally, a close-fisted, consequently, a wealthy man, 
 one of those men who, from insignificant beginnings, 
 rise by their own force of character to positions of 
 wealth and influence. He has a son, and the son 
 has a friend. The son has acquired extravagant 
 
According to Plato 99 
 
 habits, and his father will not sanction them, nor will 
 he pay his debts a second time, he declares — he has 
 already paid them once. When the relations between 
 the father and the son are in this way strained, the 
 son's friend is suddenly taken sick, and after a week 
 or two the doctors in attendance think it their duty 
 to tell him that he cannot possibly recover — that they 
 cannot promise him even a month's life. The man 
 — he must have been a young man — resigns himself 
 to his fate, and his friend, the son of the shipbuilder, 
 comes to bid him farewell. In doing so he confesses 
 that, in what he calls a moment of madness, he was 
 induced to forge the name of the firm on certain 
 documents, on which he raised money ; but that the 
 discovery of the forgery cannot be postponed further 
 than another fortnight, and that will mean ruin to 
 him. The dying man suggests — he is actually 
 magnanimous enough — idiotic enough — to suggest 
 that he himself should confess that he committed 
 the crime. That will mean that his friend will be 
 exculpated, and that he himself will go the grave 
 with a lie on his lips, and with the stigma of a 
 crime on his memory." 
 
 " And the other man — he actually accepted the 
 sacrifice ? Impossible ! " 
 
 " It was not impossible. The impossibility comes 
 in later on. You see. Miss Severn, the scheme 
 appears feasible enough. One man has only a 
 day or two to live, the other has the chance of 
 
loo According to Plato 
 
 redeeming the past and of becoming a person of 
 influence and importance in the world. Yes, I think 
 the scheme sounded well, especially as the real 
 criminal solemnly swore to amend his life. Well, 
 the confession is made in due form ; and then — here 
 is where Fate sometimes becomes objectionable — 
 then — the dying man ceases to die. Whether it 
 was that the doctors were duffers, or that a more 
 skilful man turned up, I cannot say — but the man 
 recovered and was arrested on his own confession. 
 The other man, being a kind-hearted fellow, did his 
 best to get his father to be merciful ; but he was 
 not kind-hearted enough to take the place in the 
 dock where his friend stood a month later to receive 
 the judge's sentence for the crime which he had 
 taken on his own shoulders.'' 
 
 " You mean to say that he was base enough to 
 see his friend sentenced for the forgery which he 
 had committed ? " 
 
 " That is what happened. And to show how 
 Fate's jests are never half-hearted, but played out 
 to the very end in the finest spirit of comedy, it 
 also happened that the man who was the real 
 criminal, not only saw that his friend fulfilled his 
 part of the compact which they had made, by suffer- 
 ing the penalty of his confusion, but he himself was 
 determined to act up to his part in the compact, 
 for he so rigidly kept his promise to amend his life, 
 that when his friend was released from the gaol 
 
According to Plato loi 
 
 where he had been confined for more than a year, 
 he refused to see him ; the fellow had actually come 
 to believe that he was innocent and that the other 
 had been properly convicted ! " 
 
 " That is a touch of nature, I think. And what 
 happened then ? Surely Nemesis " 
 
 " Nemesis is one of the most useful properties of 
 the man who weaves romances ; but sometimes 
 Nature dispenses with Nemesis. And do you know, 
 Miss Severn, I really think that the introduction of 
 Nemesis would spoil this particular story. At any 
 rate I know nothing about the part that Nemesis 
 played in this romance." 
 
 " What ! you mean to say that you know no more 
 of the story than what you have told me ? " 
 
 " Don't you think that the story is complete in 
 itself? " 
 
 " Not at all ; it must have a sequel." 
 
 " Oh, everybody knows — your master of the 
 technique of romance weaving will bear me out, I am 
 sure — that the sequel to a romance is invariably 
 tame and quite unworthy of the first part. That is 
 why I would rather that Mr. Richmond — or your 
 father — tried his hand at the sequel than I — yes, I 
 would like very much to know what your father 
 thinks the sequel should be." 
 
 " But surely you know something more of the 
 lives of the two men, Mr. Winwood ? " 
 
 " Yes ; I know that the man who suffered went 
 
I02 According to Plato 
 
 out to Australia and married there — as a matter 
 of fact I got the story from him — it was among his 
 papers when he died ; but I never found out what 
 his real name was, and his papers failed to reveal 
 the name of the other man ; they only said that he 
 had prospered in every undertaking to which he set 
 his hand ; so that you see he was not so unscrupulous 
 a man as one might be led to suppose ; he was most 
 scrupulous in adhering to his part of the contract 
 which was, of course, to lead a new life. And this 
 shows the danger that lies in ex parte stories : if one 
 only heard that the man had accepted the sacrifice 
 of his friend on his behalf, one would assume that 
 he was certainly without scruples ; whereas you 
 see he was, as a matter of fact, most careful to carry 
 out the terms of his compact. I never heard his 
 name either.'' 
 
 There was a pause of considerable duration before 
 Amber said : 
 
 " The story is a curious one ; but I don't think 
 I should do well to submit it to Mr. Richmond with 
 a view of making a class exercise out of it." 
 
 " Well, perhaps. . . . But I should like to ask 
 your father if he ever heard a similar story before. 
 If he is so earnest a novel reader as you say he 
 is, the chances are that he has come across such 
 a plot as this, and so will be able to let us know 
 what the artistic finish should be. Here is Overton. 
 I daresay when he has attended Mr. Richmond's 
 
According to Plato 103 
 
 classes for a year or two, he will be in a position 
 to say at a moment's notice what the artistic 
 conclusion to my story should be." 
 
 It was only when Guy Overton dropped obtrusively 
 into the chair nearest to her, that Amber became 
 aware of the fact that but three or four members 
 of Mr. Shirley's party remained on the terrace. 
 Josephine was still seated in one of the cane chairs, 
 and Ernest Clifton was still beside her. Lord 
 Lullworth and another man were standing together 
 a little way off, still smoking. 
 
 " Dear me ! Where are the others ? " cried 
 Amber. 
 
 " They are taking a final stroll on the lawn," 
 said Guy. " Somebody suggested that it was a 
 bit chilly, and so to prevent the possibility of 
 catching cold they are walking about on the damp 
 grass. You must have been absorbed not to notice 
 them going. Has Miss Severn caught you for the 
 Technical School, Pierce ? " 
 
 " Miss Severn is just thinking that I am a 
 possible candidate for the next vacant chair," said 
 Pierce. 
 
 " A vacant chair ? You don't want another chair, 
 do you ? " said Guy. " You're not so important as 
 the chap that was told by Lord Rothschild, or 
 somebody, to take two chairs if he was so big an 
 Ingin as he wanted to make out." 
 
 Pierce laughed. The story was an old one even 
 
104 According to Plato 
 
 in the Australian colonies, and every one knows that 
 the stories which have become threadbare in England 
 are shipped off to the colonies, with the shape of 
 hat that has been called in and the opera mantle 
 of the year before last. 
 
 " I was thinking of the Chair of Romance at the 
 School of Literature," said Pierce ; " but I should be 
 sorry to interfere with your prospects if you have 
 an eye on it also.'' 
 
 He rose as Lady Severn came up by the side 
 of Mr. Shirley. 
 
 Mr. Shirley expressed the hope that Miss Severn 
 had not been bored. She looked so absorbed in 
 whatever tale of the bush Mr. Winwood had been 
 telling her that he felt sure she was being bored, 
 he said. The people to whom Mr. Shirley was 
 obliged to be polite were so numerous that he 
 felt quite a relaxation in being impolite — when 
 he could be so with impunity — now and again. 
 
 " I never was bored in my life, Mr. Shirley," 
 said Amber. " Bores are the only people that are 
 ever bored. When I hear a man complain that he 
 has been bored I know perfectly well that what 
 he means is that he hasn't had all the chances 
 he looked for of boring other people." 
 
 " I think we must look for our wraps," said Lady 
 Severn. 
 
 " It's quite time : they're beginning to light the 
 Chinese lanterns," said Guy. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 TT was while the Australian was telling Amber 
 -*■ the story which had interested her so greatly 
 that Ernest Clifton was listening to something that 
 Josephine had to say to him — something that caused 
 him a good deal of spare thought all the time he 
 was driving to his rooms in St. James's Street, and 
 even after he had settled himself in his chair, with 
 a small tumbler half filled with Apollinaris on a 
 table at his elbow. 
 
 The words that she ha'd spoken to him at that 
 time of soft sounds and lights and garden scents 
 were not such as he had been accustomed to hear 
 from her, though he could not but acknowledge to 
 himself — he now and again acknowledged something 
 to himself, never to any one else — that he had 
 noticed signs of readiness on her part to say those 
 very words. It had needed all his adroitness — and 
 he had usually a pretty fair share at his command — 
 to prevent her from saying them long ago. 
 
 " / wonder if you know how great a strain it 
 is upon me to adhere to the compact which we made 
 last year" 
 
 Those were the words which she had spoken in his 
 
 los 
 
io6 According to Plato 
 
 ear when the terrace had become almost deserted, 
 only Amber and Pierce Winwood remaining in the 
 seats they had occupied while drinking their coffee ; 
 and she had spoken in so low a tone that, even 
 with the band playing so soft and low as it was, 
 no word could be heard by any one passing their 
 chairs. 
 
 He had been slightly startled by her words — he 
 thought, now that he had time to think over the 
 matter, that perhaps he should have seemed, when 
 in her presence, to have been more startled than he 
 actually was. But the fact was that he had been 
 so startled as to be unable to discriminate exactly 
 how startled he should seem to be. 
 
 It required a trained intelligence such as his to 
 appreciate so delicate a train of thought as this. 
 He felt that it would have been more flattering to 
 her if he had seemed more surprised when she had 
 spoken. It would have allowed her to feel that his 
 confidence in her fidelity was absolute, and, therefore, 
 — the logic was his — she would have felt flattered. 
 When a young woman has secretly promised eventu- 
 ally to marry, and in the meantime to love, a certain 
 man, and when in the cool of the evening of a de- 
 lightful day and a tranquillising dinner, she confesses 
 to him that the keeping of the " meantime " clause in 
 her compact subjects her to a great strain, the man 
 should of course seem greatly surprised. If he were 
 to seem otherwise, he would in effect be saying to 
 
According to Plato 107 
 
 the girl, " I took it for granted that the strain upon 
 you would be great." 
 
 He could not accuse himself of any deficiency of 
 cleverness in his attitude toward her after she had 
 spoken that surprising sentence. He knew that 
 there was a proper amount of feeling in the way he 
 breathed a sibilant " H'sh — h'sh ! " while turning 
 wondering eyes upon her — their expression of sur- 
 prise being not without a certain element of pain. 
 
 " H'sh — for Heaven's sake — my dearest ! Oh, 
 Josephine ! But ... ah, you cannot mean that — 
 that " 
 
 He reflected now that those jerked-out words — 
 those unfinished sentences could scarcely have been 
 surpassed in effect. He hoped that she felt that the 
 hand which he had then laid upon hers was trembling. 
 He had meant that it should tremble. And yet now 
 when he came to think over it, he was not quite 
 sure that his hand should have trembled. It was 
 just possible that a girl after speaking as she had 
 spoken, would have been more impressed by a 
 thoroughly firm hand touching hers, a hand whose 
 firmness would have given her confidence, compelling 
 her to realise the confidence which he had in — well, 
 in himself 
 
 (He was certainly a man of exquisite judgment 
 in subtle shades of expression.) 
 
 She had, however, not withdrawn her hand for 
 some seconds — several seconds ; the dusk had cast 
 
io8 Accofding to Plato 
 
 its friendly and fascinating shade over them ; the ■ 
 seeming incaution of his attitude was purely imagin- 
 ary. No one could see the direction taken by his 
 hand or hers. 
 
 " I tell you it is the truth," she had said, with- 
 drawing her hand. " It is a great strain that you 
 have put upon me, Ernest. I sometimes feel like 
 a criminal — exactly like a criminal — in the presence 
 of my father and my mother." 
 
 " Ah, I thought that you saw with my eyes," he 
 said, and the pained expression in his voice increased. 
 " I thought that we agreed that it would be madness 
 — your father — he would never give his consent — 
 you yourself said so." 
 
 " I said so — I admit; but — please don't think 
 that I want to — to — break it off— oh, no ; I only 
 mean to say that — that — well, I have said all that 
 I mean to say — it is a great strain upon me and 
 I sometimes feel very miserable about it. You can 
 understand that it should be so, Ernest." 
 
 " I can understand, dearest — Heaven knows how 
 I feel how " 
 
 " I don't know how I ever came to agree to 
 all that you put upon me — I really don't." She 
 had actually interrupted him with vehemence. It 
 seemed as if she had not heard that he had begun 
 to speak. 
 
 And her eyes were turned, he could see, in the 
 direction of Pierce Winwood, the man who had sat 
 
According to Plato 109 
 
 beside her at dinner, and who was now sitting 
 beside Amber Severn. 
 
 " You agreed to my suggestion because — well, 
 because you knew what you still know, that is, that 
 you loved a man whose hope it is to become worthy 
 of you, Josephine. I admit that I had no right to 
 ask you to listen to me — to hear me tell you that 
 I loved you, when I had nothing to offer you, 
 nothing but years of waiting, years of struggle, years 
 of hope. And now, Josephine, do you wish to be 
 released from your part in the compact which we 
 made a year ago ? " 
 
 " No, no ; I do not wish to be released. What ! 
 can it be possible that you have so misunderstood 
 me — that you fancy I am the sort of woman who 
 does not know her own mind — her own heart — from 
 one day to another ? " 
 
 " I know that you are steadfastness itself, only, 
 if I have placed you in an equivocal position— if 
 
 you feel that the years of waiting What I feel 
 
 exactly, my dearest, is that it would be better for 
 both of us to separate now than for " 
 
 " You cannot understand much of my nature if 
 you think, for a moment, that, after giving you my 
 promise, I would ask you to free me from all that 
 the giving of that promise entailed. But I was 
 thinking that it might be better for us to be frank." 
 
 " Have I ever kept anything from you ? " 
 
 " I mean that it might be better if you had gone 
 
no According to Plato 
 
 to my father and told him what were your hopes, 
 your prospects — told him that I had given you my 
 promise, and that we meant that nothing should 
 come between us." 
 
 " That would have separated us in a moment — 
 you agreed with me.'' 
 
 " It might have prevented our meeting and corres- 
 ponding ; but if we were sure of ourselves, would it 
 have separated us in reality ? The only separation 
 possible would be brought about by either of us 
 loving some one else ; and that we know would be 
 impossible." 
 
 " Dearest, that is the confession which comes from 
 my heart daily — hourly — giving me strength to 
 annihilate time and space, so that the years of our 
 waiting seem no more than hours." 
 
 " Oh, I know my own heart, Ernest ; and that 
 is why I feel that what I say is true : even though 
 my father should refuse to listen to us, we should 
 still not be separated. In fact, I really feel that 
 there would not be so great a barrier between us 
 as there is now when we meet." 
 
 " I think I know how you feel," he said, but he had 
 not the smallest notion of how she felt. Barrier ? 
 What barrier was she thinking of? He had not 
 the smallest notion of what was in her mind, or, 
 for that matter, her heart. 
 
 And it seemed that she knew this, for she made 
 an attempt to explain herself 
 
According to Plato iii 
 
 " I mean that the secret which we share together 
 forms a barrier between us — a sort of barrier. I 
 feel every time that I see you, with my mother 
 sitting by not knowing the compact which we have 
 made — every one else, too, sitting by, having no idea 
 that we are otherwise than free — I feel that I am 
 treating them badly — that I am mean, underhanded, 
 deceitful." 
 
 " Ah, my Josephine, do you fancy that any one 
 suspects ? — your friend. Miss Severn ? — she is clever, 
 she has been saying something that has frightened 
 you ? " 
 
 " Oh ! cannot you even see that it would be a 
 positive relief if any one were to suspect anything 
 — if any one were to speak out ? " 
 
 " Good heavens ! What a state of nervousness 
 you must have allowed yourself to fall into when 
 you would feel ruin to be a relief to you." 
 
 " Ruin ? " 
 
 " Ruin, I say ; because I know that in such a 
 case I should have no chance of getting your father's 
 consent ; yes, and not only so, for when he came to 
 learn the truth — to be made aware of my presump- 
 tion — he would turn his party against me, and my 
 career would be ruined. Do you think that I am 
 incapable of doing anything in the world, Josephine, 
 that you would stand by and see my career ruined ? " 
 
 " I have every belief in your ability, only — I 
 am not sure that a man should think so much 
 
112 According to Plato 
 
 of his career — no, I don't mean that — I only mean 
 that prudence and — and a career may be bought 
 too dearly." 
 
 " Prudence — bought too dear ? " 
 
 " I wonder if, after all, I am so very different 
 from other women in thinking that love is more 
 to be preferred than a career." 
 
 " Of course it is, my dearest ! but — heavens above, 
 Josephine, would you do me the injustice to believe 
 that I would ask you to make what all the world 
 would call an idiotic match — well, at least an 
 imprudent match ? " 
 
 " Imprudence? Who is there that can say what 
 is a prudent marriage or what is an imprudent? 
 If people love each other truly . . . psha ! I have 
 actually fallen into the strain of that detestable 
 person — the Ordinary Woman. I daresay that you 
 are right and I am wrong. You see, you are a 
 man and can reason these things out — prudent 
 marriages and so forth ; whereas I am only a 
 woman — I cannot reason — I cannot even think — 
 I can only feel." 
 
 " Thank Heaven for that, Josephine ! Ah, believe 
 me, I have looked at this matter from every stand- 
 point, and I long ago came to see that there was 
 nothing for it but to do as we are doing. Believe 
 me, my dear girl, if you were content to marry 
 me to-morrow just as I am, I would not be content 
 tp accept such a sacrifice on your part. And for 
 
According to Plato 113 
 
 Heaven's sake, dearest, do not let any one suspect 
 that there exists between us this — this under- 
 standing. Ah, Josephine, you will agree with me 
 in thinking that prudence is everything." 
 
 " Everything ? " 
 
 " Everything — next, of course, to love. But 
 above all, no one must be led to have the least 
 suspicion " 
 
 " Oh, have I not been prudence itself up to the 
 present ? " There was a suspicion in her voice — a 
 suspicion of scorn — he remembered that distinctly as 
 he sat in his rooms recalling the whole scene an hour 
 after it had be enacted. With that note — that half 
 tone of scorn — their little chat ceased, for Guy 
 Overton had come up, and after him Lady Severn 
 and Mr. Shirley, so that all that remained for him 
 to do was to give a tender pressure with a look 
 of courteous carelessness that was meant to prevent 
 the possibility of any one with eyes fancying that there 
 was tenderness in his pressure of Miss West's fingers. 
 
 And now he was asking himself the question : 
 
 " W/io is the Other Man ? " 
 
 Ernest Clifton had a pretty good working 
 acquaintance with the motives of men and women 
 — not perhaps quite so complete an acquaintance 
 with these motives as he fancied he had, but 
 still a very fair knowledge ; and, therefore, he 
 was asking himself that question : 
 
 " Who is the Other Man?" 
 
 8 
 
114 According to Plato 
 
 He had had a good deal of trouble persuading 
 Josephine during the preceding autumn to a,gree 
 to engage herself to marry him. It had not been 
 done- in a minute. He had never before had such 
 difficulty persuading a girl to give him such a 
 promise. She was what physicians call " an obstinate 
 case." Hers was psychologically an obstinate case ; 
 but she had yielded at last to his treatment, and 
 had given him her promise. 
 
 He flattered himself that it was his own clever- 
 ness — his own cleverness of argument, his own 
 personality, for was not cleverness part of his 
 personality ? — that had brought her to perceive 
 that she would be doing well to promise to marry 
 him, and at the same time to keep that promise a 
 secret from her own father and mother, and all the 
 world besides. He remembered how he had im- 
 pressed her by his story of his early struggles. He 
 had appealed to her imagination by telling her how 
 humble his career had been in its beginning — how, 
 being the third son of a doctor in a village in War- 
 wickshire, he had been thrown on the world to shift 
 for himself when he was sixteen years of age, how 
 he had, while working as a reporter on the staff of 
 a Birmingham newspaper, starved himself in order 
 to have money enough to pass University examina- 
 tions and take a degree, and, later on, to get called 
 to the Bar. He told her how he had given up 
 much of his time, when practically behind the 
 
According to Plato 115 
 
 scenes at Birmingham, to the study of the political 
 machinery of a great party, with the result that 
 he had worked himself into the position of the 
 secretary of the organisation, becoming a power 
 in his party — a man with whom, in critical times, 
 the head of the Cabinet had conferred before 
 venturing upon legislation that might have a 
 tendency to alienate a considerable proportion of 
 his friends. 
 
 And Josephine had listened to him, and had fully 
 appreciated his contention that for such a man as he 
 hoped to become, the choice of a wife was a matter 
 of supreme importance. He had given her to under- 
 stand that his ideal woman was one to whom her 
 husband would apply for counsel when he needed it — 
 one who would be her husband's right hand in all 
 matters. He had seen enough, he said, to make 
 him aware of the fact that those men who were will- 
 ing to relegate their wives to a purely domestic 
 position, were the men who were themselves 
 eventually relegated by their party to a purely 
 domestic position : they became the domestics of 
 their party mainly, he believed, because they had 
 been foolish enough — conceited enough, for there 
 is no such fool as your conceited politician — to 
 fancy that nowadays, nay, that at any time in the 
 history of the country, the wife of the political leader 
 should occupy a humbler place than the political 
 leader himself. 
 
ii6 According to Plato 
 
 He had prevailed upon her, first, by stimulating 
 her, interest in himself, and secondly, by stimulating 
 her ambition — he knew that she had ambition ; and 
 she had agreed, but only after considerable difficulty 
 on his part, to accept his assurance that for some 
 time at least, it would be well for their engagement 
 to remain a secret, even from her father and mother. 
 He had reason for knowing, he told her, that her 
 father was antagonistic to him, on account of his 
 alleged interference — " interference " was the word 
 that Mr. West had freely employed at the time — 
 with the constituency which he represented at a 
 rather critical time. He knew, he said, that it would 
 require time to clear away the recollection of this 
 unhappy incident from her father's mind, so that 
 to ask him for his consent to their engagement 
 would be hopeless. 
 
 Well, she had, after great demur, consented to 
 give him her promise, and to preserve the matter 
 a secret. 
 
 And now he was sitting in his chair asking him- 
 self the question : 
 
 " Who is the Other Man ? " 
 
 He was unable to answer the question ; all that 
 he could do was to keep his eyes open. 
 
 But as this was the normal state of his eyes, he 
 knew that he was not subjecting them to any con- 
 dition that threatened astigmatism. 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 A^T^HILE Mr. Ernest Clifton was thinking over 
 that question, the answer to which he be- 
 lieved to be vital to his interests, Amber Severn was 
 hanging on the arm of her father as they strolled 
 together about their rose garden under the cool stars 
 of the summer night. She was keeping the promise 
 she had made to Pierce Winwood and was telling 
 him the story — it struck her as being curious — which 
 Pierce Winwood had told to her. 
 
 It seemed, too, that she had not over-estimated 
 the element of the curious which it contained, for 
 before she had gone very far with it, her father who, 
 when she begun the narrative, had been stooping 
 down every now and again to smell the roses as he 
 moved from bed to bed, was standing still, quite as 
 engrossed in hearing the story from her as she had 
 been in hearing it from the Australian. 
 
 When she came to the end, he put his hands in 
 
 his pockets, and drew a long breath, gazing, not at 
 
 her face, but in an abstracted way, over her head 
 
 into the distance of the shrubbery. There was a 
 
 silence of considerable duration before he said — and 
 
 once again he seemed to draw a long breath : 
 
 117 
 
ii8 According to Plato 
 
 " What did you say is the name of the man — the 
 Australian ; I was paying so little attention to you, 
 I regret to say, when you began your story, I have 
 actually forgotten it ? " 
 
 " Pierce Winwood," replied Amber. " I mentioned 
 the name to you a few days ago when I told you 
 that I had met him. You said you did not recollect 
 hearing it before, but I now see that you recall it." 
 
 " You are wrong, my dear ; I do not recall any 
 one of that name," said her father. And then he 
 turned away from her, looking up to the topmost 
 windows of the house, which were glowing one by 
 one, as the servants switched on the lights in turn, 
 preparing the rooms for the night. 
 
 Amber was a little struck at his way of taking 
 the story. It appeared to her that he must have 
 heard it all before, for he had not given any 
 exclamation of surprise while she dwelt on some of 
 the details that seemed to her rather marvellous. 
 His attitude on hearing it to its close, was, she 
 thought, that of a person whose distant memories 
 have been awakened. 
 
 " What did he say was the name of the man — the 
 man to whom the thing happened ? " he asked, after 
 another and a longer pause. 
 
 " He was unable to give me any name, either the 
 name of the man who was falsely imprisoned or of 
 the one who allowed himself to be saved by the 
 falsehood," replied Amber, 
 
According to Plato 119 
 
 " Ah ! . . . I wonder if he is anxious to find out 
 either of those names." 
 
 " He said nothing about that. He only told me 
 the story because we had been talking about the 
 romance of the Colonies," said Amber. 
 
 " Ah " 
 
 " But now that I come to think of the way he 
 dwelt on some of the details in the story, I fancy 
 he must take more than an ordinary amount of 
 interest in the people of that little drama — the story 
 would make a very good play, I think." 
 
 " That is just what I have been thinking — a very 
 good play. You really fancy that he took a personal 
 interest in some of the details ? " 
 
 " Well, it did not seem so to me at the moment, 
 I must confess ; but as I said just now, the more 
 I think of it the more I feel . . . but, perhaps I 
 exaggerate ... I can only tell you what is my 
 impression now." 
 
 " That is almost certain to be accurate, my dear. 
 I am sure that you have been led to believe that I 
 heard the story before. Of course I heard it before. 
 What surprised me was becoming aware of the 
 fact that I was not alone in my acquaintance with 
 the details of the story — the man who was innocent 
 suffering for the one who was guilty." 
 
 " The strangest part seems to me to be that of 
 the guilty man being content to see the innocent 
 suffer. Is it possible that such a man could exist? " 
 
120 According to Plato 
 
 " There are few men in existence possessing 
 sufficient strength of mind to stand silently by while 
 some one else — their closest friend — is suffering in 
 their place." 
 
 " Strength of mind ? Strength of — well, they 
 may have strength of mind, but what about their 
 hearts ? Oh ! such men could have no hearts." 
 
 " When men set out in life with a determination 
 that their ambition shall be realised, they find that 
 their best ally is that process of nature known as 
 atrophy, my dear ; they get rid of their hearts to 
 make way for their ambition. At the same time 
 you should remember that atrophy is as much a 
 process of nature as those other processes which we 
 associate with the action of the heart." 
 
 " Oh, yes, I acknowledge that, and our abhorrence 
 of the man with the atrophied heart is quite as 
 natural as the process known as atrophy.'' 
 Sir Creighton laughed. 
 
 " And you will be able to tell Mr. Winwood the 
 names of the people — the two men, the man with 
 the heart and the man with the ambition ? " con- 
 tinued Amber. 
 
 " I could tell him both names ; but I am not 
 certain that I should tell him so much as one of 
 them," said her father. " At any rate, you are going 
 to ask him to dinner. By the way, who did you say 
 sat with him at the little feast to-night — you said 
 he told you the story after dinner ? " 
 
According to Plato 121 
 
 " Josephine sat beside him. I think mother 
 mentioned it when we returned," said Amber. 
 
 " Of course she did," said her father. " I had for- 
 gotten for the moment. And I suppose one may take 
 it for granted that Josephine and he got on all right?" 
 
 " I'm sure they did. I hadn't a chance of asking 
 her. Oh, of course, they got on all right ; Joe isn't 
 the girl to let a stranger feel ' ill at ease,' as the 
 song says." 
 
 " That occurred to me. And the man — would 
 he tell her the story too ? Oh, I don't suppose that 
 he would have the chance at the dinner-table. He 
 isn't in the position of the Ancient Mariner." 
 
 " I don't suppose he would have told even me if 
 we hadn't begun to talk about Australian romances. 
 He had a groom who used to play polo at Ranelagh 
 — and a stock rider too. Funny, isn't it ? " 
 
 " Very funny. You came to the conclusion that 
 he was a good sort of chap ? " 
 
 " You mean Mr. Winwood ? Oh, yes, he is 
 very nice." 
 
 " I think you might ask Josephine to come on 
 whatever night you invite him. Make it a small 
 party, Amber." 
 
 " I'll make it as small as you please, if you want 
 to talk to him afterwards. Why should not I ask 
 him to drop in to lunch ? that will be more informal ; 
 and besides, we really haven't a spare evening for 
 three weeks to come." 
 
122 According to Plato 
 
 " A capital idea ! Yes, ask him to lunch. Only 
 he may not have a spare morning for as many 
 weeks. Don't forget Josephine ; meanwhile we'll 
 go to our beds and have a sleep or two. Who 
 sat beside you at dinner ? " : 
 
 " Lord Lullworth. A nice — no, he might be nice 
 only that he's pig-headed. He ridiculed the School." 
 
 They had walked toward the house and now 
 they were standing together at the foot of the flight 
 of steps leading to the door by which they meant 
 to enter. 
 
 " He ridiculed the School, did he ? Well, your 
 friend Willie Bateman will tell us that he could do 
 no more for the School than that. By the way, did 
 Mr. Winwood bind you down to secrecy in regard 
 to his story ? " 
 
 " On the contrary, he asked me to tell it to you ; 
 but now that I come to think of it he said he would 
 rather that I didn't tell it to Mr. Richmond ; you see 
 I suggested before he told it to me, that it would 
 serve — possibly — as an exercise for one of the 
 classes." 
 
 "I think he was right, I would advise you to 
 refrain from telling it to Mr. Richmond, or in fact to 
 any one. I would even go the length of refraining 
 from telling it to Josephine." 
 
 " What ! oh, he did not tell me to keep it such a 
 secret as all that. Why shouldn't I tell it to Joe ? " 
 
 " Why should you tell it to her ? It may concern 
 
According to Plato 123 
 
 this Mr. Winwood more closely than you think. 
 You remember what the knowing man says in 
 one of Augier's comedies ? ' When any one tells 
 me a story of what happened to a friend of his, 
 I know pretty well who that friend is.'" 
 
 " You mean to say that it is — that it was " 
 
 " I mean to say nothing more, and I would advise 
 you to follow my example. Good-night, my dear. 
 Don't give too much of your thought to the question 
 of who Mr. Winwood's friend is — or was. He 
 told you he was dead, didn't he ? " 
 
 "Yes, he said that he was dead, and that he 
 didn't even know what his name was." 
 
 " Ah, well, I have the better of him there. 
 Good-night." 
 
 He kissed her, and she suffered herself to be 
 kissed by him, but was too far lost in thought to 
 be able to return his valediction. 
 
 She went to her dressing-room, but she heard 
 her father go down the corridor to his study before 
 she had reached the first lobby. She could not, 
 however, hear the way he paced the floor of his 
 study for some minutes before throwing himself 
 upon his sofa, or she might have come to the 
 conclusion that the story which she had repeated 
 to him, concerned him much more closely than 
 she fancied it did. 
 
 But he was a scientific man and his methods 
 of thought were scientific, 
 
124 According to Plato 
 
 " A coincidence — a coincidence ! " he muttered. 
 " Yes, one of those coincidences that are carefully 
 arranged for. He never would have told her the 
 story but for the fact of his hearing that I knew all 
 about it. It would have been a coincidence if he had 
 told her the story without knowing who she was." 
 
 He resumed his pacing of the room for some 
 minutes longer, and then, with an impatient word, 
 he extinguished the lights. 
 
 " Psha ! " he said. " What does it amount to 
 after all ? Not much, only I never thought it 
 possible that all that old business would be revived. 
 I fancied that it was dead and buried long ago. 
 It's a pity — a great pity ! Yes, that's what I think 
 now. But . . . ." 
 
 He remained for a minute or two in the dark, 
 but whatever his thoughts were, he did not utter 
 them. He went silently upstairs to his room. 
 
 ^ vF tF 7p 7p 
 
 When Amber met Josephine a couple of days 
 later, and asked her to drop in to lunch on the 
 following Friday, Josephine said she would be 
 delighted ; but when Amber mentioned, immediately 
 afterwards, that Pierce Winwood would probably 
 be the only stranger of the party, she was rather 
 surprised to notice a little flush upon Josephine's 
 face, followed by a little drawing down of the 
 corners of her mouth, and the cobweb shadow of a 
 frown — perhaps a pout. 
 
According to Plato 125 
 
 " Did you say Friday ? " Josephine asked, in 
 a tone that suggested a vocal sequence to the filmy 
 frown that might have been a pout. 
 
 " Yes, I said Friday, and you said you would 
 come. Don't try to make out now that you 
 misunderstood me," cried Amber. 
 
 " I'm not going to try. Only " 
 
 " Only what ? Why should you dislike meeting 
 Mr. Winwood ? Did you expect me to ask Guy 
 Overton, or Mr. Richmond, or was it Arthur Galmyn 
 you had set your heart on ? Didn't you find Mr. 
 Winwood entertaining ? " 
 
 " Entertaining — entertaining ? " Josephine looked 
 at her strangely for a few moments, and then 
 gave a laugh. " Entertaining," she said again. 
 " I really never gave a thought to the question 
 as to whether he was entertaining or the reverse. 
 The men who entertain one are not always the 
 people one wants to meet again. I think that 
 there's hardly any one so dull as the man who 
 tries to be entertaining." 
 
 " Then what have you against Mr. Winwood ? " 
 asked Amber. 
 
 " Did I say that I had somewhat against him ? " 
 cried Josephine quickly and with quite unnecessary 
 vehemence. " Now, don't say that I suggested to 
 you that I disliked this Mr. Winwood. I was only 
 — only surprised. Why should you ask me to 
 meet him again ? There was no need for me 
 
126 According to Plato 
 
 ever to meet him again. People come together at 
 dinner or at a dance and separate and — and — that's 
 all right. Why shouldn't this Mr. Winwood be 
 allowed to drift away in this comfortable and 
 accommodating manner ? " 
 
 Amber stared at her. Her face was almost 
 flushed with the vehemence of her words, and there 
 was a strange sparkle in her eyes. Amber stared 
 at this inexplicable display of feeling. She wondered 
 what on earth had come over her friend Josephine, 
 and had opened her mouth to say so, when Josephine 
 prevented her from speaking. 
 
 " Now, don't say — what you're going to say," 
 she cried, lifting up both her hands in an exag- 
 gerated attitude of protest, which, however, but 
 imperfectly concealed the increased flush upon her 
 face. " Don't say that I'm an idiot, my beloved 
 girl, because I happen to have — to have taken an 
 unaccountable dislike to your Mr. Winwood. I 
 haven't — I give you my word I haven't in reality — 
 as a matter of fact I think that I could almost like 
 him, if I did not — that is to say, if I did not — do 
 the other thing. There you are now." 
 
 " What's the other thing ? " said Amber. 
 
 " Good gracious ! what's the opposite to liking 
 a man ? " 
 
 " Loving a man," cried Amber. 
 
 Josephine's flush vanished. It was her turn to 
 stare. She stared as a cold searchlight stares. 
 
According to Plato 127 
 
 Then she said coldly : 
 
 " I dislike your Mr. Winwood — I — I — I wonder 
 if I don't actually hate him ? Yes, I feel that I 
 must actually hate him or I shouldn't be looking 
 forward to meeting him so eagerly as I do. That's 
 the truth for you, my dear Amber — the truth — 
 whatever that may mean." 
 
 "I wish you were not coming on Friday," said Amber, 
 after a long thoughtful and embarrassing pause. 
 
 " So do I. But I swear to you that nothing 
 shall prevent my lunching with you on Friday," 
 cried Josephine. 
 
 And then, after a moment of gravity which Amber 
 thought might be simulated in a kind of spirit of 
 parody upon her own gravity, Josephine burst out 
 laughing and hurried away. 
 
 Amber felt completely puzzled by her attitude. 
 She did not know what to make of her flushing — 
 of her frowning — of her pouting — least of all of 
 her outburst of laughter. 
 
 She thought over what Josephine had said ; but, 
 of course, that was no assistance to her. 
 
 If one cannot arrive at any satisfactory interpreta- 
 tion of a girl's flushing, and frowning, and laughing, 
 one is not helped forward to any appreciable extent 
 by recalling her words. 
 
 Amber wished with all her heart that her father 
 had not suggested to her the asking of Josephine to 
 this confidential little lunch which he had projected. 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 T F Josephine came with great reluctance to lunch 
 ■*■ with her dearest friend because of her precipitate 
 dislike to Mr. Winwood, she was of course sufficiently 
 a woman of the world to avoid betraying in any 
 way that might cause her friend to be uncomfort- 
 able her antipathy to him — perhaps antipathy was 
 too strong a word to think, Amber thought ; but 
 she felt that if she did Josephine an injustice in 
 letting so strong a word come into her mind in 
 this connection, the mystic manner — the absurd 
 inexplicable contradictoriness of Josephine was 
 alone accountable for it. 
 
 Amber felt a little nervous observing the attitude 
 of Mr. Winwood in respect of Josephine. If he 
 were to give any sign of returning Josephine's — 
 well, not antipathy — uncongeniality would be a 
 better word. Amber felt that she would have just 
 cause for annoyance. 
 
 The result of her observation of him was to relieve 
 
 her mind of its burden of doubt. He looked more 
 
 than pleased when he found himself face to face 
 
 with Miss West. 
 
 And then it was that Amber first came to 
 128 
 
According to Plato 129 
 
 perceive that Pierce Winwood was a very good- 
 looking man. He had a frank way of standing in 
 front of one that somehow suggested a schoolboy 
 thirsting for information from his betters. 
 
 " I thought that London was a place where one 
 never found out the name of one's next door neigh- 
 bour, and never met the same person twice, but I 
 am glad to discover my mistake," said he, when 
 Josephine had shaken hands with him. 
 
 And then Amber breathed freely. 
 
 And Josephine treated him with positive cordiality. 
 
 " How amazingly well a woman can conceal her 
 real feelings I" was Amber's thought when she noticed 
 how pleasantly her friend smiled, looking straight 
 into Mr. Winwood's face, while she said : 
 
 " I think our life here quite delightful : we need 
 only meet a second time the people whom we like. 
 In the country one is compelled to take the goats 
 with the sheep, one has no choice in the matter." 
 
 " A second time ? " said he. " What about a 
 third time ? Is a third time possible ? " 
 
 " Almost inevitable, if one passes the second 
 time," said Josephine. 
 
 " You are building up my hopes," he said, turning 
 away from her. 
 
 She was petting the Persian cat, Shagpat by name. 
 
 At this moment Sir Creighton entered the room, 
 and his daughter noticed the quick scrutiny that 
 he gave to the face of the younger man. She 
 
 9 
 
13° According to Plato 
 
 also noticed the return of that nervous awkwardness 
 which the younger man had displayed on meeting 
 her on the Sunday afternoon. It never occurred to 
 her that the man who called himself Pierce Winwood 
 and who said that his father had once known hers 
 might be an impostor. 
 
 Sir Creighton shook hands with him and said 
 he was glad that he had been able to come. 
 
 " There are so many things going on just now, 
 are there not ? " he said. " And I suppose you are 
 anxious to attend everything, Mr. Winwood." 
 
 " One must lunch somewhere," said Amber. 
 
 " Lunch is a sort of postscript to one's breakfast 
 in London town," said Sir Creighton. " I don't 
 suppose that any one except a working man like 
 myself can get over breakfast before eleven. What 
 time does your father breakfast on the morning 
 after a late sitting of the House, Josephine ? " 
 
 " He is invariably the first of the household to 
 be in the breakfast-room," said Josephine. 
 
 " I find people in London the earliest to bed and 
 the earliest to rise of any I have ever known," re- 
 marked Winwood. " I was led into Bohemia the 
 other evening. I found it to be the most orderly and 
 certainly the earliest of communities. The greater 
 number of the revellers drank nothing but Apol- 
 linaris and hurried off to catch suburban trains." 
 
 " I heard some one say the other day that the 
 Underground Railway has done more to advance 
 
According to Plato 131 
 
 the cause of temperance than all the lecturers in 
 the world," said Lady Severn. 
 
 " I am afraid that even tlie once potent magic- 
 lantern must take a second place as a reforming 
 agent," said Sir Creighton. 
 
 " I believe that there is still one real Bohemian 
 alive in London to-day," said Josephine. " He is 
 one of the aborigines, and he is as carefully looked 
 after as if he were a Maori or a Pitcairn Islander." 
 
 " He was pointed out to me," said Winwood. 
 " He is, I hear, the sole survivor of a once dilapi- 
 dated community. He forms an excellent example 
 to those who may fancy that there was anything 
 fascinating in mediocrity combined with potations." 
 
 And all this time Amber perceived that her father 
 was scrutinising the face of Pierce Winwood ; but 
 he gave no indication that he recalled in the face of 
 the son any of the features of the father, whom he 
 was supposed to have known. 
 
 The conversation which was being eked out until 
 the meal should be announced, became too attenuated 
 even to serve this purpose ; but just at the right 
 moment the relief came, and, of course, when the 
 little party had settled down at the table, topics were 
 not wanting, and also as a matter of course every 
 topic had to be general ; there was no possibility 
 of Sir Creighton and Winwood discussing between 
 themselves any matter that they might have to 
 discuss. Amber, who gave herself up to observing 
 
^32 According to Plato 
 
 everything, came to the conclusion that on the whole 
 her father was favourably impressed by the person- 
 ality of the Australian ; but somehow the latter did 
 not succeed in inducing Josephine to talk as she 
 usually could talk. She was not so silent as to call 
 for remark ; but there was at the table none of that 
 " forced draught " conversation which Sir Creighton 
 usually found so stimulating. 
 
 When the two men were left together, and had 
 lighted cigars, the younger did not wait for his host 
 to lead up to the question of his identity. 
 
 " I have been wondering, with some anxiety, Sir 
 Creighton, if I have yet suggested any person to 
 your memory ? " 
 
 " I am a scientific man, and therefore not quite 
 so liable as most people are to accept fancies on the 
 same basis as real evidence," said Sir Creighton. 
 " It would be impossible for me to say that your 
 features suggested to me those of any man with 
 whom I was acquainted years ago — how many 
 years ago ? " 
 
 Winwood shook his head. 
 
 " I cannot say how many years 'ago it was that 
 you were acquainted with my father," he said. " I 
 thought that perhaps — no one has ever suggested a 
 likeness between my father and myself, still I thought 
 — well, one often sees transmitted some personal 
 trait — some mannerism that recalls an individuality. 
 That is a scientific truth, is it not. Sir Creighton ? " 
 
According to Plato 133 
 
 " It is highly scientific," said Sir Creighton with 
 a laugh. " Yes, on that basis, I admit that — once 
 or twice, perhaps — a recollection seemed to be 
 awakened ; but — what is in my mind at this 
 moment is the imitation of well-known actors to 
 which one is treated in unguarded moments by 
 popular entertainers. I daresay that you have 
 noticed also that it is only when the entertainer 
 has announced the name of the well-known actor 
 whom he imitates, that the imitation becomes 
 plausible. Now, although I occasionally boast of 
 being influenced only by scientific methods, still I 
 fancy that if I knew the name of your father I 
 should have less difficulty recalling the man whose 
 personalities — that is, some of them — a few — are 
 echoed by you. I knew no one bearing the name 
 Winwood." 
 
 " You ask me the question which I was in hopes 
 you could answer. Sir Creighton," said Winwood. 
 " I had no idea that the name by which my father 
 was known during the thirty years or so that he 
 lived in the colony was an assumed one. I never 
 found out what was his real name. To say the truth, 
 it is only recently that my curiosity on this point has 
 been aroused. In a young colony there is a good 
 deal of uncertainty in regard to names." 
 
 " I daresay. You told my daughter a curious 
 and an almost incredible story, however, and she 
 repeated it to me," said Sir Creighton. 
 
134 According to Plato 
 
 " You will not tell me that you never heard that 
 story before ? " cried the younger man, half rising 
 from his seat. " If you tell me so, I shall feel un- 
 commonly like an impostor." 
 
 " Oh no ; I heard all the details of that story 
 long ago," replied Sir Creighton. " Only, as it was 
 told to me I fail to see what bearing it has upon 
 your identity." 
 
 " The man who suffered in the place of his friend 
 was my father. Sir Creighton," said Winwood. " Now 
 you know the name of the original actor of whose 
 personality I have been giving you imitations — 
 faint imitations, I daresay." 
 
 " Yes, now I know ; and I admit that I see the 
 original much more clearly," said Sir Creighton, 
 laughing. But his listener was not laughing. He 
 was leaning his head on his hand, his elbow being 
 on the table, and he seemed to be lost in thought. 
 There was no elation expressed on his face at Sir 
 Creighton's admission. 
 
 Sir Creighton became equally grave in a moment. 
 
 " It was the cruellest thing and the most heroic 
 thing ever done in the world," said he in a low 
 voice. " It was to me your father told the truth 
 about that confession of his, and he did so only on 
 my promising in the most solemn way that I would 
 keep the matter a secret. I often wonder if I was 
 justified in adhering to my promise." 
 
 " When he told me the story he rather prided 
 
According to Plato 135 
 
 himself on his judgment in selecting you as his 
 confidant," said Winwood. " Yes ; he said that 
 he knew he could trust you to keep his secret." 
 
 " I don't think that I would have kept it if 
 he had entrusted it to me before he suffered his 
 imprisonment," said Sir Creighton. " He did not 
 do so, however, until his release, and when he was 
 on the point of sailing for South America — it was 
 for South America he sailed, not Australia." 
 
 " He remained for nearly five years in Rio 
 Janeiro," said Winwood. " The training which he 
 received at the engineering works he was able to 
 turn to good account at Rio, and so far as I could 
 gather, he made enough money to give him a start 
 in Australia. He succeeded, and I think he was 
 happy. It was not until he had reached his last 
 year that he told me the story." 
 
 " He did so without any bitterness in regard to 
 the other man, I am sure," said Sir Creighton. 
 
 " Without a single word of reproach," said 
 Winwood. " He really felt glad that the other man 
 had prospered — he told me that he had prospered 
 and that he had reached a high position in the world." 
 
 "You see your father rightly thought of himself 
 as having saved the man from destruction ; not 
 merely from the disgrace which would have been 
 the direct result of his forgery being discovered, but 
 from the contemptible life which he was leading. I 
 don't know if your father told you that one of the 
 
136 According to Plato 
 
 conditions of the strange compact between himself 
 and the other man was that the latter should re- 
 form his life ; and for once the man fulfilled that 
 part of his compact. Your father saved him." 
 
 Winwood nodded in assent, while he still allowed 
 his head to rest on his hand, as if he were lost in 
 thought. 
 
 Suddenly he turned his eyes upon Sir Creighton, 
 then drew his chair closer to him, and, leaning 
 forward, said : 
 
 " Sir Creighton, will you tell me what is the name 
 of that man ? " 
 
 Sir Creighton was awaiting this question. He 
 had been considering for the previous two days what 
 answer he should return to this question, and yet 
 he felt taken somewhat unawares, for he did not 
 expect that his conversation with Winwood would 
 lead to a view of his father's act from the standpoint 
 which was now suggested to him. 
 
 " It appears to me that your father had his own 
 reasons — very excellent reasons too — for refraining 
 from telling you either his own name or the name 
 of the man whom he saved from destruction," he 
 said. " I wonder if I have any right to make you 
 acquainted with what he withheld. What is your 
 opinion on this matter ? " 
 
 " I asked you to tell me the man's name. Sir 
 Creighton," replied Winwood. 
 
 " I have no doubt that you are intensely interested 
 
According to Plato 137 
 
 in the search for his name," said Sir Creighton. " But 
 do you really think that I should be justified in 
 telling you what your father clearly meant to remain 
 a secret ? Just at present I feel very strongly that 
 I have no right to do this. If any one would be 
 happier for my telling you the man's name, I daresay 
 that I might, at least, be tempted to do so ; but 
 no one would be the happier for it. On the contrary, 
 you yourself would, I know, be sorry that I told you 
 the name of the man, and as for the man — as I am 
 acquainted with him to-day and have some respect 
 for him " 
 
 " Some respect ? " 
 
 " Some respect — in fact, in spite of my knowing 
 all that I do, a good deal of respect — as, I repeat, 
 I have no desire to make him unhappy, I shall 
 not tell you what is his name — I shall not tell him 
 that the son of the man whom he allowed to suffer 
 for his crime, is alive and anxious to know all 
 about him." 
 
 " You mean that you will not tell me — just yet." 
 
 " That is exactly what is in my mind at this 
 moment. I should have added those words of 
 yours 'just yet,' to what I said regarding both 
 you and the man. I may think it due to you to 
 tell you some day ; and I may also think it due 
 to the man to tell him. Meantime — not just yet 
 — I hope you are not unsatisfied, my boy ? " 
 
 Sir Creighton put out his hand with more than 
 
13^ According to Plato 
 
 cordiality — absolute tenderness, and the younger 
 man took it, and was deeply affected. 
 
 " I am satisfied — more than satisfied," he said 
 in a low voice. " I shall try to be worthy of such 
 a father as I had." 
 
 "You are worthy, my boy — I know it now," 
 said Sir Creighton. " You do not shrink from 
 self-sacrifice. I hoped to find that my old friend 
 had such a son as you. I may be able to do 
 something for you — to help you in a way that — 
 that — oh, we need not lay plans for the future ; 
 it is only such plans that are never, realised. Now 
 I think we can face the drawing-room." 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 JOSEPHINE was saying good-bye to Lady 
 J Severn, and Amber was doing her best to 
 induce her to stay. As the two men paused outside 
 the drawing-room, there was a frou-frou of laughter 
 within the room — the rustle of the drapery of the 
 flying jest at Amber's insistence. 
 
 " You will not go, please,'' said Pierce when 
 Amber appealed to him to stand between the door 
 and Josephine. " You cannot go just at the moment 
 of my return, especially as Miss Severn has promised 
 to show me the roses." 
 
 " The argument is irresistible," said Josephine with 
 a little shrug following a moment of irresolution. 
 " But that was not Amber's argument, I assure you." 
 
 " I merely said that I expected son^e of my 
 friends to come to me to report their progress," 
 said Amber. 
 
 " That seems to me to be: an irresistible reason 
 for a hurried departure," said Sir Creighton. 
 
 " Oh, I wouldn't suggest that they were so in- 
 teresting as that," said Josephine, with a laugh, 
 a laugh that made one — some one — think of the 
 laughter of a brook among mossy stones. 
 
 139 
 
140 According to Plato 
 
 " Interesting enough to run away from ? " said 
 Pierce. " Well, any one who is interesting enough 
 for Miss West to run away from is certainly 
 interesting enough for an ordinary person to stay 
 for ; but for that matter I did not suggest that 
 I was going away." 
 
 " You saved us the trouble of insisting on your 
 staying, for some time, at any rate," said Lady 
 Severn. 
 
 " As long as you can after the arrival of the 
 objects of interest," said Sir Creighton. 
 
 " And now I think we may go among the roses 
 without reproach," said Josephine. 
 
 She led the way out to the terrace and then 
 down the steps into the garden, and was followed 
 by Amber and Pierce, and for half an hour they 
 strolled about the rose-beds, Amber being every 
 minute more amazed at the self-repression of 
 Josephine in regard to Mr. Winwood. Although 
 she had frankly acknowledged that she had formed 
 a dislike to Mr. Winwood, she had not only come 
 to lunch when she knew that he would be the 
 only other guest, but she had allowed herself 
 to be easily persuaded to stay on after the hour 
 when, without being thought impolite, she might 
 have gone away. 
 
 And she was not even content with these tokens 
 of self-abnegation, for here she was, after the lapse 
 of half an hour, still conversing with Mr. Winwood, 
 
According to Plato 141 
 
 when really she had no need to remain for longer 
 than ten minutes in the garden ! 
 
 And she was actually pretending to take an 
 interest in all that he was saying, an interest so 
 absorbing as to give Amber herself an impression 
 of being neglected. 
 
 She had always felt that Josephine was indeed a 
 true friend, but she had never before had offered to 
 her so impressive a series of tokens of her friendship. 
 The friendship that dissembles a rooted dislike for 
 a fellow visitor is of sterling quality, Amber felt ; 
 and with this feeling there was joined one of admira- 
 tion for the way in which her friend played her part. 
 
 Poor Mr. Winwood ! He might really have 
 believed from her manner that he had favourably 
 impressed Josephine. Once or twice Amber fancied 
 that she saw on his face a certain look that suggested 
 that he was gratified at his success in holding the 
 attention of the fair dissembler by his side. 
 
 Poor Mr. Winwood ! 
 
 Perhaps Josephine was carrying the thing too far 
 — perhaps she was over-emphasising her attitude of 
 polite attention. It would, the kind-hearted young 
 woman felt, be a very melancholy thing if so good 
 a sort of man as this Mr. Winwood were led to fancy 
 that — that — oh, well, no doubt in the Colonies young 
 men are more simple-minded than those at home 
 — more susceptible to the charming manners of a 
 beautiful girl, being less aware of the frequency with 
 
142 According to Plato 
 
 which charming manners are used — innocently per- 
 haps — to cloak a girl's real feelings. It would, she 
 felt, be truly sad if this man were to go away under 
 the belief that he was creating a lasting impression 
 upon Josephine ; whereas, all the time, it was only 
 her exquisite sense of what was due to her host and 
 hostess — it was only her delicate appreciation of 
 what her friendship for Amber herself demanded of 
 her, that led her to simulate a certain pleasure from 
 associating with Mr. Winwood. 
 
 The kind thoughtfulness of Miss Severn not merely 
 for the present but for the future comfort of at least 
 one of her guests, was causing her some shght uneasi- 
 ness, when she became aware of the fact that her 
 mother was making a sign to her from a window ,of 
 the drawing-room that opened upon the terrace walk- 
 
 " Some of my visitors must have arrived already," 
 she cried. " Oh, yes, it is Guy. You must not run 
 away. He would feel that you were rude." 
 
 " And he would be right ; he has his sensitive 
 intervals," said Winwood. " We should not hurt 
 his feelings." 
 
 " You will not run away at once ? " said Amber, 
 tripping toward the house. " Oh, thank you." 
 
 They showed no sign of having any great desire 
 to run away. 
 
 " I never felt less inclined to run away than I do 
 just now," said Winwood, looking at the girl who 
 remained by his side. 
 
According to Plato 143 
 
 " You are so fond of roses — you said so." 
 
 She was holding up to her face a handful ot 
 crimson petals that she had picked off one of 
 the beds. 
 
 " Yes ; I am fond of — of roses," he said. " Some- 
 how, England and all things that I like in England 
 are associated in my mind with roses." 
 
 " It is the association of the east with the west," 
 said she. " The rose that breathes its scent through 
 every Eastern love song is still an English emblem ; 
 just as that typical Oriental animal, the cat, suggests 
 no more of its native jungle than is to be found in 
 the rectory garden." 
 
 " And the turtle of the tropics does not send one's 
 thoughts straying to Enoch Arden's island and the 
 coral lagoon, but only to the Mansion House and 
 a City dinner." 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 " I am sorry I mentioned the cat," she said. 
 
 "The first English rose I ever saw was when we 
 were in camp in the bush," he said. 
 
 " An English rose in the Australian bush ? " she 
 cried, and he saw a new interest shining in her eyes. 
 " You did not tell me anything of the bush when you 
 sat beside me at Ranelagh." 
 
 " Let me tell you about it now. We were talking 
 of roses," said he. " It was out there I saw an 
 English rose at Christmas. It had been sent out to 
 one of our troopers by his sweetheart." 
 
144 According to Plato 
 
 " There is an English love story with the scent 
 of the rose breathing through it," she cried. " ' My 
 luv is like a redde, redde rose ' is an English song 
 — the rose you speak of was red, of course." 
 
 " Yes," he replied, after a little pause ; " it was 
 red — red when I found it — under his tunic. He 
 had been speared by a native." 
 
 She caught her breath with the sound of a little 
 sob in her throat. 
 
 " The pity of it ! the pity of it ! She had sent 
 it out for his grave." 
 
 She put her face once again down to the crimson 
 petals which remained in her hands ; and when 
 she let them drop to the grass, he saw that two 
 of them were clinging together. 
 
 " That was the first time I saw an English rose," 
 he said ; " and I have never seen one since without 
 thinking of what it symbolised : the love that is 
 stronger than death." 
 
 "Yes," she said, "yes." 
 
 And, curiously enough, it seemed that that word 
 was the most complete commentary upon the little 
 story that he had told to her in so few sentences. 
 It also seemed to suggest something of the nature 
 of a comment upon his last remarks — a confidential 
 comment. 
 
 He nodded, repeating the word, but with a 
 longer interval between the repetition of it. 
 
 " Yes— yes." 
 
According to Plato 145 
 
 For a few moments they stood together in silence. 
 The sound of voices — a faint murmur — came from 
 the open window of the drawing-room. The note 
 of a blackbird from Kensington Gardens rippled 
 through the air. 
 
 As if under the influence ot the one impulse, 
 Josephine and her companion walked once more 
 down the garden — slowly — musingly — silently. It 
 was not until they had made a complete circuit 
 of the rose-beds and had returned to the parterre 
 where they had been standing, that he said : 
 
 " Yes — yes ; I know that I shall never see a 
 rose again without thinking that — that — I have been 
 among the roses with you." 
 
 He noticed that she gave a little start — was it 
 a shudder ? — and then glanced quickly toward him. 
 She made a motion with one of her hands — she drew 
 a sudden breath and said quickly in a low tone : 
 
 " Mr. Winwood — I think — that is — oh, let us 
 go into the house. I never wish to walk in a 
 garden of roses again." 
 
 He knew that whatever she had meant to say 
 when she drew that long breath, she had not said 
 it : she had broken down and uttered something 
 quite different from what had been on her mind 
 — on her lips. 
 
 Already she was half-way to the terrace steps, 
 and she had run up them and was within the room 
 before he moved. 
 
 10 
 
146 According to Plato 
 
 She was greeting some one in the room. How 
 loud her laugh was ! 
 
 And yet he had thought half an hour before 
 that he had never heard so low a laugh as hers! — 
 the laughter of a brook among mossy stones. 
 
 But a spate had taken place. 
 
 He went down once more to the end of the 
 garden alone, thinking his thoughts. 
 
 And when, five minutes later, he walked slowly 
 up the terrace steps, he found that Josephine had 
 gone away. 
 
 " She said good-bye to you before she left the 
 garden, did she not ? " cried Amber, while he 
 glanced round the room. 
 
 " Oh yes, she said good-bye," he replied. 
 
 And then he cried out, seeing Guy Overton on 
 a stool : 
 
 "Hallo! you here? Why, I thought that this 
 was one of your school days." 
 
 Amber had never before heard him speak in 
 so boisterous a tone. He usually spoke in a 
 low voice. 
 
 And she had also noticed that Josephine had 
 laughed much louder than was her wont. 
 
 But she was sure that Josephine had not been 
 rude to him. Josephine was not one of those 
 horrid girls who cannot be clever without being rude. 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 " t~*' UY has been telling me all about his great 
 ^-^ investment," cried Amber. " You never 
 mentioned it to us, Mr. Winwood. But perhaps 
 you didn't hear of it ? " 
 
 " You were the first one to whom I told it," said 
 Guy, looking at her sentimentally. 
 
 Pierce laughed quite boisterously. 
 
 " What has he been doing ? " he said. " I certainly 
 heard nothing of it. It hasn't yet been put into 
 the hands of that Mr. Bateman, the advertiser, 
 whom I have been eluding for the past fortnight. 
 Have you bought the Duke's racers, or what ? " 
 
 " Not much," said Guy. " I've got something 
 more solid for my money." 
 
 " I'm not so sure of that," said Pierce. " I saw 
 one of the Duke's racers, and in the matter of 
 solidity But what have you bought ? " 
 
 " The Gables — I've just bought The Gables. 
 You must come down and see me. Pierce, old 
 chap — you really must." 
 
 He had the air of the old-fashioned proprietor — 
 the owner of broad acres and so forth. 
 
 " I can see you quite well enough from where 
 
 ==47 
 
H^ According to Plato 
 
 I stand — that is, when you keep still. Don't wriggle 
 about, Guy, but tell me what are The Gables ? 
 Whose gables have you been buying ? " 
 
 " What are The Gables ? What are Oh, he 
 
 has just come from Australia. He has never heard 
 of the historic mansion — see the agent's catalogue — 
 the historic mansion known as The Gables. Why, 
 don't you know enough of the history of your 
 native land to be aware of the fact that it was 
 at The Gables that King Charles the First — or was 
 it Henry the First ? — signed something or other ? " 
 
 " Magna Charta," suggested Pierce blandly. 
 
 " No, not Magna Charta," said Guy, with the 
 natural irritation of a great scholar who, on forgetting 
 for a moment an important name or date, hears the 
 haphazard prompting of a tyro. " Not Magna 
 Charta — that was somewhere else. Never mind, 
 Nell Gwyn once lived at The Gables," he added 
 proudly. " You've heard of Nell Gwyn, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Not in connection with the history of my native 
 land, Mr. Overton. You will search in vain the 
 history ol Australia from the earliest date to find 
 any allusion there to a visit from Nell Gwyn," said 
 Pierce. " But I've had fifteen houses pointed out 
 to me within the four-mile-radius, in each of 
 which Nell Gwyn lived. And yet the greatest 
 authority on the subject says she never lived in 
 any but two." 
 
 " Well, The Gables was one of them,'' said Guy. 
 
According to Plato 149 
 
 " I should know it, for the place is mine. I've 
 just bought it." 
 
 " The dearest old house by the river that was 
 ever seen," said Amber. " You must have seen it, 
 Mr. Winwood. On the way to Hurley — you told 
 us you went to Hurley. The river is at the bottom 
 of the lawn.'" 
 
 " Yes, in summer ; but in the winter the lawn is 
 at the bottom of the river — why, it was Guy himself 
 who told me that some friend of his had said that," 
 laughed Pierce. " Anyhow you've bought the place. 
 Bravo, Guy ! You've got it cheap ? " 
 
 " Not so cheap as I meant to when I set out to 
 do it," said Guy. " But another chap was in the 
 running for it too — a brewer chap. Disgusting, isn't 
 it, that all these fine old places are getting into the 
 hands of that sort of man ? " 
 
 " It is revolting to the old stock like you and me, 
 Guy," responded Pierce with great solemnity. 
 
 " I got the historic mansion, the grounds, with 
 the wreck of three boats and two boathouses, — the 
 stables and a piggery — a decent-sized piggery — 
 accommodate a family of seventeen. I don't suppose 
 that I'll ever want more than seventeen pigs at one 
 time. The piggery is the only part of the place 
 that has been occupied for the last two years. I 
 got the furniture at the valuation too." 
 
 " And the pigs ? " suggested Pierce. 
 
 " Oh, I won't need the pigs. I'm going to ask a 
 
ISO According to Plato 
 
 crowd of you chaps down some Saturday," said Guy, 
 and he could not for the life of him understand why 
 Lady Severn as well as Amber and Winwood burst 
 out laughing. He thought it as well to allow him- 
 self to be persuaded that he had said something 
 witty, so he too began to laugh ; but he laughed so 
 entirely without conviction that every one else in the 
 room roared. 
 
 " Why shouldn't I have a crowd down to keep 
 me company ? " he inquired blandly. " What's the 
 good of having a country house unless to entertain 
 one's friends ? I'm going down as soon as I can. 
 I'm not such a fool as to keep up two establishments. 
 I have been paying two pounds a week for my 
 rooms in town up to the present. That's a lot of 
 money, you know." 
 
 " You'll be able to save something now," said Pierce. 
 
 " Not so much in the beginning. The house is 
 not more than a couple of miles from your place. 
 Lady Severn,'' said Guy, and at this further sug- 
 gestion of cause and effect there was another laugh. 
 
 He felt that he had joined a merry party. 
 
 " I don't believe that it can be more than four 
 miles from The Weir," said Amber, " so that we 
 shall be constantly meeting." 
 
 " Yes — yes — I foresaw that," acquiesced Guy. 
 " And I hope the first Sunday that you are at The 
 Weir you will come and give me a few hints about 
 the furniture and things. Shouldn't I have a cow ? 
 
According to. Plato 1 5 1 
 
 I've been thinking a lot about a cow. And yet I 
 don't know. If I get a cow I must have some one 
 to look after it. And yet if I don't get a cow, 
 I'm sure to be cheated with my milk and butter." 
 
 " Yes, you are plainly on the horns of a dilemma," 
 said Pierce, going across the room to say good-bye 
 to Lady Severn, and then returning to shake hands 
 with Amber. 
 
 " I hope that you and papa had a satisfactory chat 
 together," she said with a note of inquiry in her voice. 
 
 " A most satisfactory chat ; I think that I 
 convinced him that I was not an impostor." 
 
 And so he went away, narrowly watched by 
 Guy, especially when he was speaking to Amber. 
 Guy did not at all like that confidential exchange 
 of phrases in an undertone. Pierce was clearly 
 worth keeping an eye on. 
 
 " I knew you'd be interested in hearing of 
 my purchase," he remarked to Amber, assuming 
 the confidential tone that Pierce had dropped. 
 
 " Oh yes, we are greatly interested, mother and 
 I," said Amber. " But what about your work at 
 the School ? I hope you don't intend to give up 
 your work at the School ? " 
 
 There was something half-hearted in his disclaimer. 
 He cried : 
 
 " Oh no — no, of course not ! " but it was plain 
 that his words did not carry conviction with them 
 to Amber, for she shook her head doubtfully. 
 
152 According to Plato 
 
 " I'm afraid that if you give up all your time to 
 considering the question of cows and things of that 
 type, you'll not have much time left to perfect 
 yourself in literature," she said. 
 
 There was a kind of " hang-literature ! " expression 
 on his face when she had spoken, and she did not 
 fail to notice it ; she had shaken her head once 
 more before he hastened to assure her that he 
 had acquired his new possession mainly to give 
 himself a chance of doing some really conscientious 
 literary work. 
 
 " The fact is," said he, " I find that the dis- 
 tractions of the town are too great a strain on me. 
 I feel that for a man to be at his very best in the 
 literary way he should live a life of complete 
 retirement — far from the madding crowd and that, 
 you know. Now, I've been a constant attender 
 at the School for the past three months — ask Barnum 
 himself if I haven't — I mean Richmond — Mr. 
 Richmond. Why, only a few days ago he compli- 
 mented me very highly on my progress. He said 
 that if I persevered I might one day be in a position 
 to enter the Aunt Dorothy class. Now, when I've 
 settled down properly at The Gables I mean to 
 write an Aunt Dorothy letter every week. That's 
 why I want to be at my best — quite free from 
 all the attractions — the distractions of the town. 
 I should like to have your opinion about the cow." 
 
 But he was not fortunate enough to be able 
 
According to Plato i53 
 
 to learn all that she thought on this momentous 
 question, for Arthur Galmyn was shown in and 
 had a great deal to say regarding his progress in 
 the City. He had learned what contango really 
 did mean, and he hoped that he was making the 
 best use of the information which he had acquired. 
 He was contemplating a poetical guide to the Stock 
 Exchange, introducing the current price of the 
 leading debenture issues ; and, if treated lyrically, 
 a Sophoclean Chorus dealing with Colonial securities ; 
 or should it be made the envoi of a Ballade or a 
 Chaunt Royal ? He was anxious to get Amber's 
 opinion on this point, there was so much to be 
 said for and against each scheme. 
 
 Amber said she was distinctly opposed to the 
 mingling of poetry and prices. She hoped that 
 Mr. Galmyn was not showing signs of lapsing once 
 again into the unprofitable paths of poetry. Of 
 course she wished to think the best of every one, but 
 she really felt that he should be warned in time. 
 Would it not be a melancholy thing if he were to 
 fall back into his old habits ? she asked him. 
 
 And while he was assuring her that she need have 
 no apprehension on this score — he felt that he 
 was completely cured of his old disorder through 
 six months' contact with the flags of the Stock 
 Exchange, Mr. Willie Bateman and Mr. Owen 
 Glendower Richmond were announced, and each 
 of them had a good deal to say to Amber. 
 
154 According to Plato 
 
 What all these young men had to say to her 
 was in the nature of reporting progress. Mr. 
 Galmyn, whom she had turned from the excitement 
 of poetry to the Academic quietude of the Stock 
 Exchange, had to tell her how thoughtfully he had 
 made use of some fictitious information which he 
 had disseminated for the purpose of " bulling " 
 a particular stock ; Mr. Bateman had a great deal 
 to say regarding the system which he had perfected 
 for bringing American heiresses under the notice 
 of the old county families ; he had also come to 
 her for sympathy in respect of one of his failures. 
 He had been entrusted with the indelicate duty 
 of obtaining a knighthood for a certain gentleman 
 of no conspicuous ability — a gentleman who was 
 quite down to the level of the usual candidates for 
 knighthood. He had advised this gentleman to 
 offer, through the public prints, to present his 
 valuable collection of Old Masters to the Nation, 
 and he had done so. For some reason or other — 
 possibly because all the pictures were the most 
 genuinely spurious collection ever brought together 
 by one man — there was really no knowing why — 
 the Nation had refused the gift. 
 
 This was one of his failures, Mr. Bateman said ; 
 and it was but indifferently compensated for by 
 his success in obtaining a popular preacher to deliver 
 a sermon on a novel lately published by a lady 
 whose reputation as the most retiring woman in 
 
According to Plato 155 
 
 England had conferred upon her that conspicuous- 
 ness which she craved. The preacher had consented, 
 and the novel, which was the most characteristic 
 specimen of nineteenth-century illiterature, was 
 already in its sixth edition. 
 
 " But on the whole, I have no reason to complain 
 of my progress in my art — the art which is just 
 now obtaining recognition as the most important 
 in all grades of society," said Mr. Bateman. " The 
 Duchesses — well, just see the attitude of the various 
 members of a Ducal House to-day. Her Grace is 
 reciting for an imaginary charity on the boards of a 
 Music Hall, and hopes in that way to reach at a single 
 bound the popularity of a Music Hall artiste ; another 
 member is pushing herself well to the front as the 
 head of the committee for supplying the British army 
 with worn-out pipes ; another of the ladies has 
 organised a hospital-ship to do duty as her private 
 yacht, and the most ambitious of all is, they say, 
 going to try what the Divorce Court can do for her. 
 Noblesse oblige ! Oh no, the Duchesses don't need 
 my help ; I sometimes envy them their resources. 
 But think of the hundreds of the aristocracy — the 
 best families in England, Miss Severn — who are falling 
 behind in the great struggle to advertise themselves, 
 not from any longing after obscurity, but simply 
 because they don't know the A B C of the art ! Yes, 
 you'll hear next week of a well-known and beautiful 
 Countess personally advertising. ' Once beautiful 
 
156 According to Plato 
 
 always beautiful ' is an axiom, as you'll notice in 
 every society column you glance at — the beautiful 
 Countess, I say, will occupy the pulpit of a high-class 
 conventicle." 
 
 " Following your advice ? " said Amber. 
 
 " I arranged every detail," said Mr. Bateman 
 proudly. 
 
 And then came the turn of Mr. Owen Glendower 
 Richmond to report the progress of the Technical 
 School of Literature. 
 
 His report was not a long one. 
 
 " Miss Mica Quartz Hanker, of Nokomis, in the 
 State of Nebraska, has joined the Historical Romance 
 class," said Mr. Richmond. 
 
 Before the suspiration of surprise which passed 
 round the drawing-room at this piece of news, had 
 melted into silence, the servant announced Lord 
 Lullworth. 
 
 This was certainly a greater surprise for Amber 
 than the news that Miss Mica Quartz Hanker had 
 become a member of one of Mr. Richmond's classes. 
 And that was possibly why she was slightly put 
 out by the appearance of the young man who had 
 sat beside her at the Ranelagh dinner. She did 
 not know that he had asked Lady Severn for per- 
 mission to call upon her, and that Lady Severn had 
 mentioned Friday afternoon to him. 
 
 She could not quite understand why she should 
 feel pleased at his coming — pleased as well as flushed. 
 
According to Plato i57 
 
 She was acquainted with peers by the dozen and 
 with the sons of peers by the score, and yet some- 
 how now she felt as if she were distinctly flattered. 
 
 That was why she asked him how he was and 
 apologised for the absence of her mother. 
 
 Lady Severn had left her daughter in possession 
 of the drawing-room when Mr. Bateman was talking 
 about his Duchesses ; she pretended that she had 
 an appointment which was necessary to keep. 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 T ORD LULLWORTH, while he was drinking 
 -* — ' his tea and admiring to the full the exquisite 
 electrical apparatus by which it was prepared, was 
 giving some attention to the other young men — Mr. 
 Richmond might possibly still be thought of by 
 some people as a young man — who occupied chairs 
 or stools around Miss Severn's seat. Guy Overton 
 he knew pretty well, and he had never pretended 
 that he thought highly of his talents — by talents 
 Lord Lullworth meant his seat on a pony something 
 between twelve and thirteen hands high — or of his 
 disposition. (He had heard of his habitually dining 
 at a greasy Italian restaurant and drinking Chianti 
 in half flasks.) 
 
 He knew nothing about the other men, but he 
 knew instinctively that he would never think much 
 of them. 
 
 And then they began to talk and she actually 
 listened to them and pretended that she was in- 
 terested in what they were talking about — he was 
 anxious to think the best of her, so he took it for 
 granted that her attention to what they were saying 
 was only simulated. He was not fond of hearing 
 
 IS8 
 
According to Plato 159 
 
 himself talk, so that he did not feel at all left out 
 in the cold while the others were — well, the exact 
 word that was in his mind as he listened to them 
 was the word "jabbering." They were jabbering, 
 the whole racket of them, weren't they ? 
 
 " We really can't spare you another week, Miss 
 Severn," one of the racket was saying — the eldest 
 of them : he was as high-toned in his dress as a 
 shop-walker in a first-class establishment — a figurant 
 whom he greatly resembled, in Lord Lullworth's 
 judgment. " Oh no, we cannot spare you so soon. 
 I am holding a special class on The Novel with a 
 Purpose. I think you may find it interesting, 
 though, doubtless, you are acquainted with some 
 points in the technique of this class of fiction. The 
 title, for instance ; the title must be sharp, quick, 
 straightforward, like the bark of a dog, you know ; 
 'The Atheist,' 'The Nigger,' 'The Haggis,' 'The 
 Bog-trotter,' ' The Humbug,' — all these are taking 
 titles ; they have bark in them. And then in re- 
 gard to the Purpose — in The Novel with a Purpose, 
 no one should have the least idea what the Purpose 
 is, but one must never be allowed to forget for a 
 moment that the Purpose is there. It is, however, 
 always as well for a writer of such a novel to 
 engage the services of an interviewer on the eve of 
 publication to tell the public how great are his 
 aims ; and then he must not forget to talk of the 
 sea — that sea, so full of wonder and mystery, 
 
i6o According to Plato 
 
 beside which The Novel with a Purpose must be 
 written, and a hint must be dropped that all the 
 wonder and mystery of the sea, and the sound 
 of the weeping of the women and the wailing of 
 the children, and the strong, true, beating hearts 
 of great men anxious to strangle women and to re- 
 pent grandly in the last chapter, will be found in 
 the book, together with a fine old story, as old as 
 the Bible — if you forget to drag the Bible into the 
 interview no one will know that you have written 
 The Novel with a Purpose — one story will do 
 for half a dozen novels : two women in love with 
 one man — something Biblical like that. But, doubt- 
 less, you have studied the technique of this class 
 of fiction, Miss Severn ? " 
 
 " I have never studied it so closely," replied 
 Amber. " I have always read books for pleasure, 
 not for analysis." 
 
 Lord Lullworth kept staring awayat Mr. Richmond 
 and then at Amber. What the mischief were they 
 talking about, anyway? 
 
 And then Willie Bateman chipped in. 
 
 " I have always regarded the interview as obso- 
 lete," said he. " It does not pay the photographer's 
 expenses. Even the bulldog as an advertising 
 medium for an author has had his day, like every 
 other dog. A publisher told me with tears in his 
 eyes that he had seen the time when a portrait of an 
 author's bull pup in a lady's weekly journal would 
 
According to Plato i6i 
 
 have exhausted a large edition of his novel. Even 
 a volume of pathetic poems has been known to run 
 into a second edition of twenty-five copies after an 
 appearance in an evening paper of the poet's black- 
 muzzled, pig-tailed pug. I'm going to give the cat 
 a trial some of these days. I believe that the Manx 
 cat has a brilliant future in store for it, and the 
 Persian — perhaps a common or garden-wall cat will 
 do as well as any other — I wouldn't be bound 
 with the stringency of the laws of the Medes and 
 Persians as to breed — I'd just give the cat a chance. 
 Properly run, I believe that it will give an author 
 of distinction as good a show as his boasted bull 
 terrier." 
 
 Lord Lullworth stared away at the speaker. 
 Great Queen of Sheba ! What was he talking 
 about, anyway ? 
 
 Then Amber, who had been listening very politely 
 to both the men who had been trying to impart 
 their ideas to her, turned to Lord Lullworth and 
 asked him if he had heard that Mr. Overton had 
 purchased The Gables, and when he replied with 
 a grin that he hoped Overton had not paid too 
 much money for it, Overton hastened to place his 
 mind at ease on this point. The purchase of the 
 place had involved an immediate outlay of a con- 
 siderable sum of money, he admitted, but by giving 
 up his chambers in town and the exercise of a few 
 radical economies he hoped to see his way through 
 
 II 
 
1 62 According to Plato 
 
 the transaction. Would Lord Lullworth come down 
 some week's end and have a look round ? 
 
 Lord Lullworth smilingly asked for some super- 
 ficial information regarding the cellar. 
 
 And then Mr. Owen Glendower Richmond and 
 Arthur Galmyn went off together ; and when Guy 
 Overton found that he had to hurry off — the £uisine 
 at the Casa Frangipani was at its best between the 
 hours of six and seven — Willie Bateman, who wanted 
 to have a quiet word with him, went away by his 
 side. (He wondered if Guy would think it worth 
 his while to pay a hundred pounds to have a stereo- 
 block made of the river view of The Gables for an 
 evening paper, to be inserted with a historical sketch 
 of the house, and some account of the family of the 
 new purchaser.) 
 
 Lord Lullworth laughed pleasantly — confidentially, 
 when he and Amber were left alone together. 
 
 " They are all so clever," said Amber apologetically. 
 She had really quite a faculty for interpreting 
 people's thoughts. 
 
 " Yes,'' said he, " they are, as you say, a rummy lot." 
 
 Then she too laughed. 
 
 " That's your way of putting it," she said. 
 
 " I suppose so. What fun chaps can find in 
 jabbering away like that beats me. They're a bit 
 pink-eyed, aren't they now ? " 
 
 Amber evaded a question which, she thought, 
 might possibly be enigmatical. 
 
According to Plato 163 
 
 " But they are really very clever," said she. 
 " Arthur Galmyn was a poet, but I saw that he had 
 not patience enough to wait for fame to come to him." 
 
 " Why couldn't he buy a practice in a populous 
 suburban district ? " asked Lord Lullworth. " If a 
 chap can't succeed as a specialist in town, he should 
 set up as a general practitioner in the suburbs or 
 in the provinces." 
 
 " I suppose a poet is a sort of literary specialist," 
 said Amber. " Never mind — he is all right now ; 
 he is making money on the Stock Exchange." 
 
 " You made him go on the Stock Exchange ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ; we talked it over together. And I 
 got Guy Overton to join the Technical School of 
 Literature, and I believe he is improved by doing 
 so already." 
 
 " And you got the other chap to set up the 
 School, I suppose ? " 
 
 " It was an old idea of mine. When people have 
 a Conservatoire of Music, and the Academy School 
 of Painting, why should the art of Literary Com- 
 position be allowed to struggle on as best it can 
 without instruction or advice ? " 
 
 " That's just what I should like to know. And 
 the other bounder — I mean the chap who talked 
 that rot about bulldogs and the cats and things — a 
 bit of a rotter he was, wasn't he ? Did you advise 
 him in any direction ? I didn't quite make out 
 what his line was." 
 
164 According to Plato 
 
 " Yes, it was I who suggested to him the splendid 
 possibilities there were in the way of advertising 
 things. I showed him in what a haphazard way- 
 people advertised just now, and persuaded him that 
 there was money in any systematic scheme of 
 advertising, and he has gone far ahead of anything 
 I ever imagined to be possible." 
 
 " I should think he has. And what are they up 
 to, the lot of them, can you guess. Miss Severn ? " 
 
 " Up to ? — what are they up to ? Why, haven't 
 I just explained that each of them is making a 
 profession ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ; but do you fancy that they're doing 
 it for love of the profession or for the love of — 
 for — any other reason ? " 
 
 " I don't quite see what you mean. Lord Lullworth." 
 
 " It's a bit rough to be frank with a girl ; and it's 
 rarely that a chap has to say just what he means, 
 but there are times " 
 
 He spoke apologetically and paused, allowing his 
 smile to rest upon her for a moment. It was the 
 smile of a man who hopes he hasn't gone too far, 
 and trusts to get out of an untenable position by the 
 aid of a temporising smile. 
 
 She returned his smile quite pleasantly. She 
 knew that the sentences over the utterance of which 
 men hesitate are invariably the most interesting 
 that they have to speak. 
 
 " What is it ? " she asked. " Everybody speaks 
 
According to Plato 165 
 
 frankly to me ; they don't treat me as they do other 
 girls, you know." 
 
 " It's a dangerous experiment talking frankly to 
 a girl," said he. " But if it comes to that, it's not 
 so dangerous an experiment as a girl talking frankly 
 to a man — leading him to do things that he hasn't 
 a mind to do — maybe that he hates doing." 
 
 " I was born in an atmosphere of experiments," 
 said she. " I delight in having dealings with new 
 forces, and determining their respective co-efScients 
 of energy." 
 
 " Oh ! then you don't happen to think that these 
 chaps who were here just now are in love with you ? 
 That's frank enough, isn't it ? " 
 
 Her face had become roseate, but she was not 
 angry. Whatever she may have been, she was 
 sufficiently like other girls to be able to refrain from 
 getting angry at the suggestion that four young men 
 were in love with her at the same time. 
 
 " Frank enough ? it's nonsense enough," she said. 
 " You have quite misunderstood the situation. Lord 
 Lullworth. I like Guy Overton and all the others 
 greatly, and I hope they like me. But they are no 
 more in love with me than I am in love with them." 
 
 " Do you fancy that a chap allows himself to be 
 led about by a girl all for the fun of the thing ? " 
 he asked. 
 
 " Why should a man think it ridiculous for a 
 woman to be his friend, and to give him the advice 
 
1 66 According to Plato 
 
 of a friend — the advice that he would welcome if it 
 were to come from a brother ? " she inquired. 
 
 " I don't know why, but I know that he does," 
 said Lord Lullworth. " Anyhow, you don't think 
 of any of the chaps who were here, as a lover ? " 
 
 " I do not," she cried emphatically — almost 
 eagerly. 
 
 " That's all right," he said quietly — almost 
 sympathetically. 
 
 " It is all right," she said. " I believe in the 
 value of friendship according to Plato." 
 
 " Have you ever thought of calculating its co- 
 efficient of energy, or its breaking strain ? " said he. 
 
 " I do not like people who make fun — who try 
 to make fun of what I believe, Lord Lullworth," 
 said she. 
 
 " Do you dislike alarum clocks ? " he asked 
 blandly. 
 
 " Alarum clocks ? " She was puzzled. 
 
 " Yes ; I'm an alarum clock — one of the cheap 
 make, I admit, but a going concern and quite 
 effective. I want to rattle in your ears until your 
 eyes are opened." 
 
 " You certainly do the rattling very well. But 
 I'm not asleep, I know what you mean to say 
 about my friends." 
 
 " I don't mean to say anything about them. I - 
 don't want to try to make them out to be quite 
 such soft roes as you would have me think they 
 
According to Plato 167 
 
 are. I don't want to talk of them ; 1 want to talk 
 of you." 
 
 " Of me ? Well ? " 
 
 " Yes, and of me." 
 
 " Excellent topics both." 
 
 " Yes ; but the two of us only make up one topic, 
 and this is it. Now listen. Your mother asked me 
 to call and have tea some afternoon. I had first 
 asked her permission to do so. I came pretty soon 
 after her invitation, didn't I ? " 
 
 " I'm so sorry that she has a committee meeting 
 this afternoon." 
 
 " It doesn't make any difference to me — that is, 
 in what I have to say to you. And what I have to 
 say to you is this : I came early to see you and I'm 
 coming often — very often — you have no notion 
 how often — I don't believe I know it myself Now 
 no matter how often I come I want you to under- 
 stand distinctly from the first that I disclaim all 
 intention of using Plato as an umbrella to sit under 
 with you. I am coming in a strictly anti-Platonic 
 spirit." 
 
 He had grown a bit red, and she had flushed 
 all over. 
 
 " Go on, go on ; tell me all you have to say ; 
 it's quite — quite — funny — yes, funny," she said, and 
 there was something of bewilderment in her voice. 
 " I never — never — heard anything so — so queer — 
 so straightforward. Go on." 
 
1 68 According to Plato 
 
 " I have really said all that I came to say — may 
 be a trifle more," he said. " I'm not going to make 
 an ass of myself, leading you to fancy that I'm 
 coming here as a casual acquaintance, having no 
 designs in my heart against you — I mean, for you. 
 I don't want you to fancy that I'm coming here to 
 talk to you about books or pictures, for the sake 
 of exchanging opinions in a strictly Platonic way. 
 No ; I want you to know from the outset that I'm 
 coming as a possible lover." 
 
 " I understand — oh, quite clearly — you have made 
 the position quite clear to me ; only let me tell you 
 at once, Lord LuUworth that — that " 
 
 " Now there you go, treating me as disdainfully 
 as if I had actually declared myself to be your 
 lover. I'm nothing of the sort, let me tell you. I'm 
 only the rough material out of which a lover may 
 be formed. I'm a possible lover, so I should be 
 treated very gently — just the way that you would 
 treat a baby, feeling that it may one day grow up 
 to be a man. At the same time nothing may really 
 come of the business. Cupid, the god of love, is 
 always shown as a child, because the people who 
 started the idea had before them the statistics of 
 infant mortality ; so many little loves die when they 
 are young and never grow up at all." 
 
 " They do — they do. Isn't it a blessing ? You 
 have only seen me twice and yet you " 
 
 " My dear Miss Severn, I've seen you very often. 
 
According to Plato 169 
 
 I have been looking at you for the past eighteen 
 months, and I thought you the nicest girl I had 
 ever seen. I found out who you were, and it was 
 I who got old Shirley to get up his dinner to give 
 me a chance of meeting you ; and I found you 
 nicer even than I allowed myself to hope you would 
 be. So I'm coming to see you very often on the 
 chance that something may come of it. If after 
 a while — a year or so — you find me a bit of a bore, 
 you just tell me to clear off and I'll clear off without 
 a back word. Now you know just what my idea is. 
 I'm not a lover yet, but I may grow up to be 
 a lover. You may tell Lady Severn all this — and 
 your father, too, if you think it worth while — if 
 you think anything will come of the business." 
 
 " I won't trouble either of them. It's not worth 
 while." 
 
 " I daresay you are right- — only. . . . Well, you 
 are forewarned anyway. Good-bye." 
 
 " Good-bye," said she. " This is the second time 
 I have seen you in my life. I don't care how soon 
 you come again, but if you do never come again 
 I promise you that my pillow will not be wet with 
 bitter tears of disappointment." 
 
 " Same here," he cried briskly, when he was at 
 the door. He laughed and went out and closed 
 the door. In a moment, however, he opened the 
 door, and took a step toward her. 
 
 " No ; I find that I was wrong — I should not 
 
i7o According to Plato 
 
 have said ' same here.' As a matter of fact, I find 
 that I'm more of a lover than I thought. Since I 
 have been with you here I am twice the lover that 
 I was when I entered this room. No ; I should be 
 greatly disappointed if you were to tell me that I 
 must not return." 
 
 " Then I won't ; only . . . oh, take my advice 
 and hurry away before I have time to say what 
 I have on my mind to say." 
 
 " I know it already ; and I also know that you'll 
 never say it to me. Good-bye again." 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 Til 7^ HEN she was quite sure that he had gone — 
 quite gone, beyond the likelihood of another 
 return to say something that he had omitted to say 
 or to take back something that he had already 
 said, she threw herself back on a sofa and yawned 
 ostentatiously, almost insultingly, at her own reflection 
 in a mirror that hung in the centre of one of the 
 silk panels ; and then it seemed that it was for the 
 first time in her life that she perceived how curious 
 was the design in the mirror. The silvered glass 
 was Florentine, and at one curved edge it was 
 cut with a charming intaglio of a boy chasing a 
 butterfly. On the opposite curve there was a girl' 
 with a bird on her finger. Butterflies and birds 
 were cut all over the glass, except in the centre. 
 The frame of the mirror was of beaten silver, and 
 the design showed a number of cupids bending, 
 as it were, over the brink of the glass to see the 
 face that it reflected ; some fitting their arrows to 
 their little silver bows to shoot at the glass and 
 its reflection. 
 
 She lay back and laughed quite merrily at 
 the thought that, often as she had looked at that 
 
 171 
 
172 According to Plato 
 
 charming work of art, she had never before noticed 
 the significance of the design. It interested her so 
 greatly just now that she actually rose from her 
 sofa and stood before it, examining the infinity 
 of its detail for several minutes. Then she threw 
 herself once again back among her cushions and 
 laughed. 
 
 She had never had such a funny interview with 
 any one in all her life, she thought ; and the funny 
 part of it all was to be found in the seriousness 
 of the man. If he had meant to be jocular, he 
 would have been a dead failure. But he had been 
 desperately serious from the moment he had entered 
 the room, and he had gone on talking gravely as if 
 he had been talking sense and not nonsense. 
 
 That was the funny part of the business. 
 
 The aid of Mr. Richmond had never been needed 
 to make her aware of the fact that those novel-writers 
 who produce the greatest amount of nonsense are 
 those who write seriously — who take themselves 
 seriously and talk about having a message to 
 deliver. Such, she was well aware, are the novel- 
 writers who perish after a year or two, for the im- 
 perishable element in a novel is wit. Wit, she knew, 
 is the boracic acid which makes a novel " keep.'' 
 But here was a live man coming to her with a 
 message to deliver to her ears, and although he took 
 himself quite seriously, she had not found him dull — 
 certainly not dull as the novels with the ostentatious 
 
According to Plato 173 
 
 " message " are dull. What he had to say to her had 
 surprised her at the outset of his interview, and had 
 kept her excited until he had gone away ; nay, 
 longer, for what he had said to her on his return 
 after an absence of perhaps ten seconds, was, she 
 thought, the most exciting part of his deliverance. 
 
 But, after all, he had talked such nonsense as a 
 child who knows nothing of the world would talk. 
 All the time that he was speaking she felt that 
 she was listening to the prattle of a boy-child asking 
 her if she would play at being sweethearts, and 
 laying down certain rules of the game — decreeing 
 that if he were to get tired of having her for a 
 sweetheart, she must not get cross with him for 
 leaving her, and at the same time, with a high sense 
 of fairness, affirming that if she tired of him and 
 told him to go back to the nursery, he would not 
 beat her with his fists. 
 
 Yes ; he had talked just as any little boy in a 
 sailor suit, and with a little bucket in one hand 
 and a little spade in the other, might talk while 
 the day was young ; and his gravity had made the 
 scene very funny to her. 
 
 Then the fact of her thinking of the resemblance 
 between him and the little boy caused her to recall 
 what he had said about treating him as gently as 
 a baby should be treated. Yes ; he was not to be 
 looked on as a lover, but only as the rough material 
 that might eventually shape itself into a lover. 
 
174 According to Plato 
 
 This was one of the rules of the game at which he 
 wanted her to play, and it was quite worthy of him. 
 
 At first she had felt angry with him — slightly 
 angry ; but then she felt that she would be a fool 
 if she were to be seriously angry with a little boy for 
 asking her to play at being grown up and selling 
 tea and sugar with him in a shop made of oyster- 
 shells. She had then only become amused at the 
 way he talked. She was amused at it still, as she 
 lay back among her cushions. 
 
 She was glad on the whole that she had not 
 snubbed him — that she had even taken him seriously; 
 and she thought that it was this reflection upon the 
 extent of her consideration for his feelings — that 
 amour propre which children hold so dear — that 
 made her feel so pleased as she did. 
 
 Although she knew that the young man had 
 talked nonsense, making an absurd proposal to her, 
 and making it, too, on a purely unintellectual basis — 
 as if she, a girl born in an atmosphere of intellectu- 
 ality and breathing of this atmosphere into her life, 
 could listen for a moment to a proposal made to the 
 emotional and not to the intellectual side of her 
 nature ! — although he had talked this nonsense, still 
 she could not deny that she felt pleased at the 
 thought of it all. The air somehow seemed fresher 
 about her, and she breathed more freely. Had 
 none of those writers with a message suggested 
 that an atmosphere saturated with intellectuality 
 
According to Plato 175 
 
 is like Rimmel's shop on a spring day, causing 
 one to long to get out once more into the pure, 
 scentless air of Nature's own breathing ? 
 
 She felt all the first sweet satisfaction which 
 comes from a good romp on the sands with a child 
 who, though it has not conversed on intellectual 
 topics, has brought one into the open air — into 
 the air that blows across the sands from the sea. 
 
 She was glad that she had not snubbed him 
 when he sneered at that triumph of the intellect 
 known as Platonic Friendship. She was happy to 
 think that she was an exponent of that actuality of 
 intellectuality, and that in her hands it had become 
 a great force tending toward the civilisation of man. 
 
 To be sure, civilisation has always been opposed 
 to Nature in its operations, and the best civilisation 
 is that which forms the most satisfactory compromise 
 with Nature. She knew all this, and a good deal 
 more in the same line of elementary biology ; and 
 it was just because she had proofs of the success 
 of her plans of Platonic Friendship, that she was 
 disposed to regard it as one of the greatest of 
 civilising forces. 
 
 All the same she felt glad that she had refrained 
 from severity toward him when he had sneered at 
 this force. She knew that if she had done so, she 
 would now feel ill at ease. If a baby boy jeers at 
 the Precession of the Equinoxes — a phrase which 
 it cannot even pronounce — an adult would surely 
 
176 According to Plato 
 
 feel ill at ease in rebuking it for its ignorance. But 
 Amber Severn felt that she had no reason for self- 
 reproach in the matter of her interview with young 
 Lord LuUworth. 
 
 But then she was led to do a foolish thing, for 
 she began comparing Lord LuUworth with the other 
 young men who had been visiting her in the fulness 
 of their disinterested friendship for her. He was 
 the best looking of them all, she knew. He stood 
 up straighter and he looked at her straighter in 
 the face than the best of them had done. If it 
 came to a fight. . . . 
 
 And hereupon this young woman who had been 
 born in, and who had lived in, an atmosphere of in- 
 tellectuality, was led to think of the chances that the 
 young man who had just gone from her, would have 
 in a rough-and-tumble tussle with the three others. 
 She felt herself, curiously enough, taking his part 
 in this hustle and tussle — she actually became his 
 backer, and was ready to convince any one who 
 might differ from her, that he could lick three of 
 them — that horrid word of the butcher's boy was 
 really in her mind as she thought over the possible 
 contest, though why she should think over anything 
 of the sort she would have had difficulty in explain- 
 ing to the satisfaction even of herself But some- 
 how thinking of the men altogether — they were five 
 of them all told — made a comparison between them 
 inevitable, and as Lord LuUworth had frankly 
 
According to Plato 177 
 
 admitted that he was not intellectual, she had, out 
 of a sense of fair play to him, drawn the comparison 
 from an unintellectual standpoint. 
 
 This explanation — it is not wholly plausible — 
 never occurred to her, and she was therefore left 
 in a condition bordering on wonderment when she 
 pulled herself up, so to speak, in her attempt to 
 witness the exciting finish of the contest which 
 had suggested itself to her when she involuntarily 
 compared the young man who had lately stood 
 before her, with the other men. 
 
 She was startled, and gave a little laugh of 
 derision at the foolish exuberance of her own fancy ; 
 and then she became angry, and because she felt 
 that she had made a fool of herself, she called 
 Lord Lullworth a fool — not in a whisper, but quite 
 out loud. 
 
 " He is a fool — a fool — and I never want to 
 see him again ! " she said. 
 
 And then the servant opened the door and an- 
 nounced Mr. Pierce Winwood, and withdrew and 
 closed the door. 
 
 She sat upright on the sofa, staring at him, her 
 left hand pressing the centre of a cushion of 
 Aubusson tapestry, and her right one a big pillow 
 of amber brocade. 
 
 She stared at him. 
 
 He gave a rather sheepish laugh, and twitched 
 his cane till the handle caught his gloves which 
 
 12 
 
178 According to Plato 
 
 he held in his hand, and sent them flying. He 
 gave another laugh, picking them up. 
 
 She was bewildered. Matters were becoming 
 too much for her. Had be actually been lunching 
 in the house that day or had she dreamt it? It 
 seemed to her that only an hour had passed since 
 she said good-bye to him, and yet here he was 
 entering as a casual visitor might enter. 
 
 She rose and mechanically held out her hand 
 to him. 
 
 " How do you do ? " she said. " How do you 
 do? A warm afternoon, is it not? You look warm." 
 
 And so he did. He looked extremely warm. 
 
 " I am afraid that I have surprised you," said 
 he. " I'm so sorry. But when a chap is bound 
 on making an ass of himself there's really no 
 holding him back." 
 
 She felt her face becoming as warm as his 
 appeared to be, for the terrible thought flashed 
 upon her : 
 
 " This man, too, has come to me to offer himself 
 as the rough material from which a lover may one 
 day be made." 
 
 It seemed to her that there was any amount 
 of rough material of lovers available within easy 
 reach this particular afternoon. 
 
 " After leaving here an hour ago," he said, " I 
 had a rather important call to make, so I didn't 
 make it, but went for a long walk instead. I 
 
According to Plato 179 
 
 think I must have walked four or five miles, and 
 I don't think I kept my pace down as I should 
 have, considering the day it is." 
 
 " Well ? " she said, when he paused. " Well, 
 Mr. Winwood?" 
 
 " Well, you see I was bent on thinking out 
 something, and I thought it out, and I have come 
 back to you, you see, because you are, I think, 
 disposed to be friendly to me and I know that 
 you are her closest friend — that is why I ventured 
 to come back to you." 
 
 " Yes — yes," she said slowly and with a liberal 
 space between each utterance of the word. " Yes ; 
 but — what is the matter? What have I to say 
 to — to — whatever it is ? " 
 
 " I must really try to tell you," said he. " Yes ; 
 the fact is, I hope you will not think me impudent, 
 but it is a serious matter to me. I have — that 
 is, I wish to — Miss Severn, I am, as you know, 
 a stranger here. I do not know many people, 
 and I have no means of finding out — except 
 through you — what I should very much like to 
 know. You see, I don't want to make too great 
 a fool of myself altogether ; that is why I hope 
 you will not think me impudent when I ask you 
 if you can tell me if — if — Miss West is engaged 
 to marry some one. You can well believe, I am 
 sure, that when I saw her for the first time — when 
 I saw her here to-day, it seemed to me quite 
 
i8o According to Plato 
 
 impossible that such a girl — so beautiful — so gracious 
 — so womanly, should remain free. It seemed quite 
 impossible that no one should wish — but of course 
 though every one who sees her must feel how — 
 how she stands alone — she would not lightly think 
 of giving her promise — in short — I — yes, I believe 
 that I have said all that I wished to say. I have 
 said it badly, I know ; but perhaps I have made 
 myself moderately clear to you — clear enough for 
 you to give me an answer." 
 
 He had seated himself close to her and had bent 
 forward, turning his hat over and over between his 
 hands and showing himself to be far from self- 
 possessed while stammering out his statement. 
 
 But Amber, although she had never before been 
 made the confidante of a man, and although she 
 had just passed through a curious experience of her 
 own, felt, so soon as it dawned on her that the man 
 beside her was in love with Josephine, both interested 
 and sympathetic. 
 
 The pleasure she experienced so soon as she 
 became aware of the fact that it was not to herself 
 he was about to offer himself as the rough material 
 of a lover, after the fashion of the day, caused her 
 to feel almost enthusiastic as she said : 
 
 " You have expressed yourself admirably, Mr. 
 Winwood ; and I can tell you at once that Josephine 
 West is not engaged to marry any one — that is — 
 well, I think I am justified in speaking so decidedly, 
 
According to Plato i8i 
 
 for if she had promised to marry any one I am 
 certain that she would tell me of it before any one 
 else in the world." 
 
 He rose and held out his hand to her, saying : 
 
 " Thank you, Miss Severn — thank you. I knew 
 that I should be safe in coming to you in this 
 matter, you have shown yourself to be so kind — 
 so gracious. You can understand how my position 
 in this country is not quite the same as that of 
 the men who have lived here all their lives — who 
 are in your set and who hear of every incident as it 
 occurs. I thought it quite possible that she might 
 . . . well, I hope you don't think me impudent." 
 
 " I do not, indeed," she said. " I feel that you 
 have done me great honour, and I think that you 
 are — you are — manly. I think, you know, that 
 there is a good deal of manliness about men — more 
 than I believed there was, and I tell you that I 
 always did think well of men. I believe that there 
 is a great future awaiting them." 
 
 " I hope that your optimism will be rewarded," 
 . said he. " Of one thing I am sure, and that is 
 that a great future awaits one man — the man who 
 is lucky enough to be loved by you. Good-bye. 
 You have placed me in such a position as makes 
 it inevitable for me to take the rosiest view of all 
 the world." 
 
 " Even of the man whom I shall love ? Well, 
 you are an optimist. Good-bye." 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 TV /r R. ERNEST CLIFTON had a good deal 
 -'-•-'- to think about; but as he was usually in 
 this condition he did not feel greatly inconvenienced. 
 He was well aware of the fact that when one man 
 insists on doing all the thinking for a large and 
 important organisation, he cannot expect to have 
 a vacant mind for many hours together. He had, 
 however, so managed matters in connection with 
 the great political machine of which he was secretary, 
 that he had become the sole intelligence of the 
 organisation. He was not only the man who con- 
 trolled the driving power of the engine, he also had 
 command of the brakes ; and every one is aware 
 of the fact that to know when to slacken speed and 
 when to stop is a most important part of the duties 
 of the man who is running any machine. Any 
 inferior person can pitch the coal into the furnace 
 to keep up the steam, but it requires an intelligence 
 to know when to shut off the steam. 
 
 He had determined from the outset that he would 
 not allow himself to be hampered by the presence 
 of another thinking man on the footplate of his 
 engine. It is the easiest thing in the world to obtain 
 
 182 
 
According to Plato 183 
 
 for any political organisation a president and a 
 committee utterly devoid of intelligence, and Ernest 
 Clifton resolved that though he might be forced 
 to seek for such a committee among the most notable 
 men in the Party, he would secure it somehow. 
 
 He found it the easiest thing in the world to get 
 an ideal president, vice-president, honorary secretary, 
 and committee. They were all men whom he could 
 implicitly trust to abstain from thought on any vexed 
 question, but he took care that no question of this type 
 remained in a condition of suspense ; he himself sup- 
 plied the thinking power necessary for its solution. 
 
 The result of several years' adherence to this system 
 was that Ernest Clifton, without a seat in Parliament, 
 without a name that carried weight with it outside his 
 own Party, had become a power in the political world. 
 
 It was rumoured that upon one occasion he had 
 been consulted by the Prime Minister in regard 
 to a matter involving a considerable change in the 
 domestic policy of the Government, and that his 
 counsel had been accepted, although it differed 
 materially from the view of some important members 
 of the Cabinet. 
 
 The fact was that the Prime Minister, having no 
 more relatives to whom he could give places, had 
 been reluctantly compelled to make merit the basis 
 of an award, and he was naturally uncertain how 
 so great an innovation would work. 
 
 It was this Ernest Clifton who, after dictating to 
 
184 According to Plato 
 
 his private secretary half a dozen letters of more 
 or less ambiguous phraseology, sat with a letter of 
 his own in front of him, — a letter which he had 
 received that morning and which added in no 
 inconsiderable degree to his burden of thought. 
 It was from Josephine West, and it notified to him 
 the fact that the writer found it impossible any 
 longer to maintain the policy of secrecy which 
 he had imposed upon her. 
 
 " When I agreed for your sake to keep our 
 engagement a secret," Josephine wrote, " I did not 
 foresee the difficulties in the situation which that 
 secrecy has already created. Daily I feel myself 
 to be in a false position ; and hourly I feel humiliated 
 by the consciousness of being concerned in an under- 
 hand act. I know that I was wrong in giving you 
 my promise at first ; there was really no reason why 
 you should not have gone to my father, and if he 
 refused his consent, we should have been placed in 
 no worse position than that of numbers of other men 
 and women who are separated by cruel circumstances, 
 but are still happy, relying on each other's fidelity. 
 Surely we could bear up by the same means, against 
 a much greater adversity than the refusal of my 
 father to give his consent to our engagement being 
 made public. I must therefore ask of you, my dear 
 Ernest, to release me from the promise which I made 
 to you, — to release me until my father has given 
 his consent to our engagement. I must be released." 
 
According to Plato 185 
 
 This was part of the letter which added so 
 materially to his burden of thought, though the 
 letter really could not be said to go more than a 
 little step in advance of the situation created by the 
 writer during her interview with him at Ranelagh, 
 a fortnight before. 
 
 The question which he had then formulated to 
 himself was one that could not by any possibility 
 be regarded as flattering to that assumption of 
 constancy upon which she now laid some stress. 
 
 " Who is the Other Man f " was, it may be remem- 
 bered, the question to the solution of which he had 
 addressed himself; and now he was not deterred 
 by the paragraph in the letter just received from 
 her — the paragraph which was meant to give him 
 assurance of the immobility of her affections — from 
 once again asking himself that question : 
 
 " Who is the Other Man ? " 
 
 He had been unable to find any plausible answer 
 to that question during the weeks which had elapsed 
 since Mr. Shirley's dinner, though in the meantime 
 he had met Josephine twice, and upon each occasion 
 had shown the utmost adroitness in the inquiries he 
 put to her quite casually, and without premeditation, 
 with a view to approach a step nearer to the solution 
 of the question. 
 
 He could not hear that she had met any man 
 whom he could feel justified in regarding as a 
 possible rival ; but in spite of this fact, he could not 
 
1 86 According to Plato 
 
 bring himself to believe that her sudden appreciation 
 of the falseness of her position was due to a sudden 
 access of sensitiveness. His long and close connec- 
 tion with a political association had made him take 
 a cynical view of the motives of men. When he 
 heard at any time of the conscience of a politician 
 being greatly perturbed in regard to any question, 
 he had never any difficulty in finding out exactly 
 what that particular gentleman wanted — whether it 
 was a knighthood, a recognition of his wife at a 
 Foreign Office reception, or a chat for five minutes 
 with a Cabinet Minister on the terrace on a day 
 when the terrace is crowded. He flattered himself 
 that he could within twenty-four hours diagnose 
 the most obstinate case of that insidious malady. 
 Politician's Conscience, and prescribe for it a specific 
 that never failed, if applied according to his in- 
 structions. 
 
 Thus it was that he was led to take what he 
 called a practical view of any psychological incident 
 that came under his notice. He regarded psychology 
 as rather more of an exact science than meteorology. 
 It was altogether a question of so many atmospheric 
 pressures, he thought ; even the force of spiritual 
 cataclysms could be calculated, if one only took the 
 trouble to use one's experience as a seismometer. 
 
 Thus it was that, although he had not discovered 
 the identity of the man who, in his opinion, had 
 caused that excess of sensitiveness on the part of 
 
According to Plato 187 
 
 Josephine, he was as certain of his existence as 
 Adams, the astronomer, was of the planet known as 
 Neptune, through observing certain aberrations on 
 the part of the planet Saturn, due to attraction. 
 
 He hoped one day before long to be able to 
 calculate the position of the attractive but unknown 
 man, and to be able to see him without the aid of 
 a telescope. 
 
 Meantime, however, he knew that he would have 
 to answer that letter which lay before him, but for 
 a moment he scarcely knew how it should be 
 replied to. 
 
 While he was giving all his consideration to this 
 question, a clerk knocked at the door of his room 
 and entered with a card bearing the name of Sir 
 Harcourt Mortimer, the Minister for the Arbitration 
 Department. 
 
 He directed the visitor to be shown upstairs. It 
 was no new thing for a Cabinet Minister to pay a 
 visit to the central offices of the great organisation, 
 and while Sir Harcourt was coming up crimson- 
 carpeted stairs, the secretary slipped the letter which 
 he had been reading into the breast pocket of his 
 coat, and wondered if he could by any possibility 
 bring the pressure of the chief of his department to 
 bear upon the under-secretary, Mr. Joseph West, 
 to induce him to consent to his daughter's marrying 
 so obscure, but powerful a man as the secretary of 
 the Argus Organisation. 
 
1 88 According to Plato 
 
 The smile that came over his face as the fantastic 
 idea occurred to him had not passed away before the 
 minister was shaking hands with him, discussing the 
 possibility of a thunderstorm occurring within the 
 next twenty-four hours. 
 
 Mr. Clifton knew perfectly well that his visitor 
 had not come to him solely for the purpose of 
 discussing electrical phenomena ; so he broke off 
 suddenly, waiting for — was it a bolt out of the 
 blue that was coming ? 
 
 " I want to get your opinion on a few matters of 
 importance to us, Clifton," said the minister, the 
 moment this pause was made. 
 
 Clifton bowed. 
 
 " My opinion," said he, " my opinion — well, as 
 you know. Sir Harcourt, it amounts to nothing more 
 than a simple equation. U a + d = c, it follows that 
 c-b = a." 
 
 " That is just what makes your opinion of such 
 practical value," said the minister. " We wish to 
 know from you in this case the value oi x; x repre- 
 sents the unknown quantity to us — that is to say, 
 the whim of a constituency. The fact is that 
 Holford is anxious for me to take his place at the 
 Annexation Department while he goes to the Ex- 
 chequer — you know, of course, that Saxeby is 
 resigning on account of his deafness." 
 
 " Yes ; on account of his deafness," said Mr. Clifton, 
 repeating the strictly political smile of Sir Harcourt. 
 
According to Plato 189 
 
 " Yes ; deafness is a great infirmity," sighed the 
 minister — his sigh was strictly ministerial ; " and his 
 resignation cannot be delayed much longer. Now 
 we think that if Eardley is returned for the Arbroath 
 Hamlets he will expect a place in the Cabinet." 
 
 " He did very well in the last, and of course he 
 would be in the present Cabinet if he had not lost 
 his seat at the General Election," remarked Clifton. 
 
 " That is just the point. Now, do you think you 
 could find a safe seat for him if the Arbroath Hamlets 
 will have nothing to say to him ? " 
 
 "You would have to give a baronetcy — perhaps 
 a barony to the man who resigns in his favour." 
 
 " Of course. What is a baronetcy — or a barony, 
 for that matter?" 
 
 " I think it might be managed," said Clifton, but 
 not without a pause — a thoughtful pause. An 
 inspiration came to him immediately after his visitor 
 had said : 
 
 " Ah, you think so ? That is just the point." 
 
 "There is another way out of the difficulty, 
 though it may not have occurred to you," continued 
 Clifton slowly. 
 
 " What is that ? " 
 
 " I don't know whether I should suggest it or not, 
 Sir Harcourt — but it may have occurred to you. 
 Mr. West is your under-secretary. He has always 
 been a useful man. I know that in the country the 
 opinion is very general that he has done very well." 
 
igo According to Plato 
 
 " For himself? " asked the minister with a certain 
 amount of dryness. 
 
 The Argus Secretary gave a very fair copy of an 
 Englishman's imitation of a Frenchman's shrug. 
 
 " He won his seat for us and I doubt if there's 
 another man in England who could have won it. 
 I'm certain there's not another who could hold 
 it," remarked Clifton. 
 
 " He is not very popular with the Chief, or the 
 Cabinet," said Sir Harcourt after another interval 
 of thought. 
 
 " It might be a case of the Cabinet against the 
 Country, in which case we all know which would 
 have to give in," said Clifton. " I don't say that 
 it is so, mind, only — I shall have to think the whole 
 thing over. Sir Harcourt. I can do nothing without 
 facts and figures. There are the Arbroath Hamlets 
 to take into account. I shall have to hunt up the 
 results of the last Revision. Eardley might be able 
 to pull through after all." 
 
 " What ! do you mean to suggest that his return 
 is as doubtful as all that ? We took it for granted 
 that it was a pretty safe thing," said the minister, 
 and there was a note of alarm in his voice. 
 
 If Clifton had not recognised this note he would 
 have been greatly disappointed. 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 " Just at the present moment," said he, " it is 
 difficult to feel absolute confidence in any seat. It 
 
According to Plato 191 
 
 would be unsafe to predict the return of Mr. 
 Girdlestone himself were he to hold on to the 
 General Election, and he is a local man. Oh, the 
 Arbroath Hamlets have always been a bit skittish." 
 
 " Then perhaps, after all, it might be as well to 
 face the possibility of West's promotion to the 
 Cabinet," remarked the minister. " After all, he 
 stands very close to it at present. In all probability 
 we couldn't keep him out much longer." 
 
 " Of course, Eardley would be the better man," 
 said the secretary ; " and it is quite likely that when 
 I get more information regarding the Hamlets I 
 shall be able to make your mind easy about him. 
 Still, I don't think that West's promotion would be 
 a case of the worst coming to the worst." 
 
 " Oh no, no ! of course not," acquiesced Sir 
 Harcourt " Oh, not by any means. He has put 
 himself into the front rank by his treatment of 
 the Gaspard Mine affair, and, as you say, the 
 country " 
 
 " Quite so. He is not altogether an outsider," 
 said Clifton. " At the same time " 
 
 " I agree with you. Yes, I fully appreciate the 
 force of what you say, Clifton," cried Sir Harcourt. 
 " You will be adding to your innumerable services 
 to the party if you collect the figures bearing upon 
 this little matter, and let me know the result. Of 
 
 course, if Eardley's seat were sure But in any 
 
 case we have an excellent man to fall back on." 
 
192 According to Plato 
 
 " I think I understand how the matter rests, and 
 I will lose no time in collecting my figures," said 
 the secretary, while the minister straightened out 
 his gloves and got upon his feet. 
 
 " I am sure you have a complete grasp of the 
 business," said Sir Harcourt. " Perhaps in a week 
 — there is no immediate hurry." 
 
 " Possibly in a week I shall have enough to 
 go upon." 
 
 He opened the door for his visitor, and Sir 
 Harcourt thanked him and departed. 
 
 " It was an inspiration," said Clifton, below 
 his breath, when he was alone. He walked across 
 the thick Turkey carpet — offices furnished at the 
 expenses of an organisation invariably have thick 
 Turkey carpets — and stood with his back to the 
 empty grate. 
 
 " An inspiration," he murmured once more. 
 
 He smiled rather grimly, took the letter out 
 of his breast pocket, read it thoughtfully, and 
 smiled again. 
 
 Then he went to a window and looked out. 
 
 The day was gloomy, but the rain was still 
 keeping off. 
 
 He tapped the barometer that hung at one side 
 of the window. He felt certain there would be 
 thunder before night. 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 JOSEPHINE had at one time — and it was not 
 so very long ago — been accustomed to send 
 little missives to Mr. Ernest Clifton, giving him 
 some information as to the entertainments to which 
 she was going from week to week, so that their 
 accidental meetings were frequent. A good deal 
 of fortuitous coming together can be arranged for 
 by two persons of ordinary enterprise. Since she 
 had, however, become sensitive on the subject of her 
 duty to her parents, and had come to the conclusion 
 that her attitude in regard to Mr. Clifton was not one 
 that any girl with a right appreciation of what was 
 due to herself as well as to her father and mother 
 would adopt, she had dropped this illicit correspon- 
 dence — after giving him due notice — so that their 
 meetings were altogether the result of chance. 
 
 Still, even trusting only to this fickle power, 
 they had a good many opportunities of exchanging 
 hand-clasps, and of sitting in the same drawing- 
 room. Since that momentous dinner at Ranelagh, 
 however, neither of them had had an opportunity 
 of reverting to the subject of their conversation on 
 the terrace ; hence Josephine had been compelled 
 
 193 13 
 
194 According to Plato 
 
 to write to Mr. Clifton that letter which he had 
 read, and upon which he had pondered before the 
 arrival of Sir Harcourt Mortimer, and some time, 
 too, after the departure of that minister. 
 
 (By the way, that thunderstorm came on all right 
 before the evening.) 
 
 Two days later he was fortunate enough (so he 
 said) to find himself in a group, of which she 
 was a member, in the grounds of an historic house 
 in Kensington — not South Kensington : it will be 
 a hundred years or more before there are historic 
 houses in South Kensington. But in this house 
 a great statesman had once lived — a century has 
 passed since there was a great statesman in England 
 — and, before the birth of the statesman, a great 
 man of letters had, by a singular mischance of 
 marriage, also lived in the same house — according 
 to some critics a hundred years have passed since 
 there was a great man of letters in England. 
 
 Josephine was once again on a terrace — one with 
 an Italian balustrade overlooking a lawn and the 
 little park that surrounds the historic house — when 
 Clifton saw her. He had no difficulty getting into 
 the group of dull celebrities to whom she had 
 been introduced by her father — dull peers whose 
 names figured largely on the first page — the title- 
 page it should properly be called — of prospectuses ; 
 and deadly dull representatives of county families 
 who had never done anything but represent their 
 
According to Plato 195 
 
 county ; a moderately dull judge or two, an 
 immoderately dull Indian Lieutenant-Governor 
 (retired), and a representative of literature. (The 
 last named had been invited in sympathy with 
 the traditions of the house ; and, indeed, it was 
 a matter of tradition that this literary link with 
 the past had written the most illiterate volume of 
 verse that had ever remained unread by the public.) 
 
 Josephine suffered herself to be detached from 
 this fascinating group after a time, but resisted 
 the temptations of a tent with moselle cup and 
 p&ti de fois gras sandwiches which Ernest held 
 before her dazzled eyes. 
 
 They stood together at the top of the steps 
 leading from the terrace to the lawn, and they 
 talked, not of the great statesman, but of the great 
 literary man. His writings have the boracic quality 
 of wit to keep them ever fresh. 
 
 " To think that he stood here, just where we are 
 standing ! " said Josephine. " To think that he looked at 
 those very trees ! He went to live on the Fulham-road 
 afterwards. Why did he not remain here, I wonder?" 
 
 " You see, his wife was here," said Mr. Clifton 
 with the air of the one who explains. 
 
 " Ah, perhaps," laughed Josephine. " I came upon 
 a letter of his the other day in a magazine — a letter 
 written from his cottage on the Fulham-road to his 
 stepson, who lived here, asking him to come to hear the 
 nightingale that sung every night in one of the lanes." 
 
196 According to Plato 
 
 " There are other places besides the lanes off the 
 Fulham-road where one may listen to the song of 
 the nightingale nowadays," said Mr. Clifton. 
 
 " His example should be a warning to a man not 
 to marry beneath him," remarked Josephine. 
 
 " Yes ; it was rather a come-down for him, wasn't it? " 
 said her companion. " He lived in a garret off the 
 Haymarket, didn't he? and his wife brought him here." 
 
 "He was the greatest writer of his time, and 
 she was only a countess," said Josephine. 
 
 " Quite so. But they lived very happily apart, so 
 that it was not such a mesalliance after all," said 
 Clifton. " I suppose it was one of Dr. Johnson's 
 customary brutalities to say that the man died from 
 that insidious form of heredity known in recent 
 diagnoses as habitual alcoholism." 
 
 " The notion is horrid — quite worthy of Dr. 
 Johnson," said Josephine, making a move as if to 
 rejoin another sparkling group. 
 
 " Don't let us separate for a minute yet," said 
 Clifton. " Though I admit that you are very 
 properly cautious, still there are limits ; we have 
 not been together, so that we could talk, for some 
 weeks. Since then I got a letter from you." 
 
 " I have been very unhappy, Ernest," said she, 
 gazing into the distance of the lovely woodland. 
 
 " Not more unhappy than I have been, my 
 dearest," said he. " Was that letter of yours 
 calculated to allay my unhappiness, do you think ? 
 
According to Plato i97 
 
 It made me doubly unhappy because it made me 
 aware of your unhappiness. 
 
 " I felt that I could not avoid writing it, Ernest. 
 It would have been impossible for me to remain any 
 longer in the position I was in ; I could not carry 
 on the course of deception into which you led me — 
 no, that is going too far ; I did not quite mean to 
 say so much." 
 
 " Then it was only your own kind heart that 
 restrained you ; for you might have meant all that 
 you said, and a great deal more. I admit that I 
 was to blame in leading you to make me the 
 promise that has caused you all this unhappiness." 
 
 " You were not more to blame than I was. In 
 these matters it is decreed that the blame is not to 
 be laid at the door of one person only. You are a 
 man with ambition — you could not be expected — 
 that is to say, the world does not expect that you 
 should feel the same way as a woman does over such 
 a point as the one which I dwelt on. A secret such as 
 ours is, I know, a very little matter in the life of such 
 a man as you. You are, I have heard, the guardian 
 of some of the most important secrets in the world. 
 But in any case a man's life contains innumerable 
 secrets that are never revealed until he is dead." 
 
 " That is quite true." 
 
 " A man with a career to — to — cultivate — men 
 
 cultivate a career as gardeners do their roses " 
 
 (They were standing beside a rose-bed now.) 
 
198 According to Plato 
 
 " Such a man must of necessity come to think 
 more of the great issues of certain incidents than of 
 the incidents themselves." 
 
 " That is perfectly true." He shook his head 
 with a mournfulness that was precisely in keeping 
 with the sadness which could be seen in his ex- 
 pression. " Too true — too true ! " he murmured. 
 " Yes, a man loses a sense of perspective " 
 
 " Not he ! " cried Josephine. " A man's sense of 
 perspective is fairly accurate. It is a woman who 
 is wanting in this respect. We have so accustomed 
 ourselves to see only what is under our noses, that we 
 become short-sighted and are utterly unable to per- 
 ceive the size and significance of anything at a distance. 
 That is how it comes that something beneath our 
 eyes seems so enormous when, after all, it is quite 
 insignificant. Oh, men do not take such narrow — 
 such short-sighted views of the incidents of life ! " 
 
 " I am not so sure of that." 
 
 " What ! would you say that any man takes the 
 same narrow view of such an incident as love as a 
 woman takes of it ? Oh no ; he is too wise. He 
 has his career in the world to think about — to 
 shape ; it is a matter of impossibility with him to 
 distort out ot all proportion to its importance that 
 incident in his life known as love. That is how 
 it comes, I know, that you think I am very foolish 
 to lay so much emphasis as I have done upon so 
 simple a thing as my giving you my promise and 
 
According to Plato i99 
 
 keeping it hidden from my father and mother. You 
 think that it is making a fuss about nothing. You 
 cannot understand how it should be the means of 
 making me suffer tortures — tortures ! " 
 
 " On the contrary," said the man, " I have myself 
 suffered deeply, knowing that you were suffering, and 
 recognising as I do, that my want of consideration 
 for you — my selfishness — my want of appreciation 
 for the purest soul of woman that ever God sent 
 on earth, was the direct cause of your burden. I 
 am glad that you wrote to me as you did, and 
 I rejoice that I am not selfish enough to hold 
 you to the promise which you made to me." 
 
 She turned her eyes upon him and looked at 
 him in more than surprise — in actual amazement. 
 
 " You mean to say that you — you release me 
 from my promise ? " she said. 
 
 " I release you freely," he replied. " Until I 
 receive your father's consent to an engagement I 
 will not think that there is any engagement between 
 us — there may be an understanding between us ; 
 but there is nothing between us that need cause you 
 uneasiness through its concealment from your father 
 and mother. When the day comes on which I can 
 ask your father's consent to our engagement with 
 some hope of success, I shall not be slow to go to 
 him, you may be sure ; but till then — you are free 
 — you need not feel any self-reproach on the score 
 of concealing anything ; there is nothing to conceal." 
 
200 According to Plato 
 
 She was dumb. She thought that she would 
 have to fight for her freedom ; but lo, he had 
 knocked the shackles off before she had uttered 
 more than a petulant complaint — she had no need to 
 make any impassioned appeal to him ; the rhetoric 
 on the subject of freedom with which she was fully 
 acquainted she had no chance of drawing on. He 
 had set her free practically of his own free will. 
 
 She was too surprised to be able to do more than 
 thank him in the baldest way. 
 
 " I am sure that it is for the best," she said. " I 
 feel happy already — happy, feeling that a great 
 burden has been lifted from me — that I need no 
 longer fear to look niy own people in the face. 
 Thank you — thank you." 
 
 There was gratitude in her face as she looked at 
 him. She could scarcely put out her hand to him, 
 considering the number of people who were about the 
 terrace, or she would, he felt assured, have done so. 
 
 But there was undoubtedly gratitude in her face. 
 
 He would have given a good deal to know if 
 she was grateful by reason of being released from 
 the pressing care of the secret which he had imposed 
 upon her, or because she now considered herself free 
 to listen to the other man— the man whose identity 
 he had not been able to discover. 
 
 She herself would have given a good deal to know 
 so much. 
 
 " I admit that I was in error from the very first," 
 
According to Plato 201 
 
 said he. " I had no right to place you in a false 
 position. I did not know — but I had no excuse for 
 not knowing — how a sensitive creature such as you 
 are, could not but feel deeply — as I do now — that 
 you were not one who needed to be held in the 
 bondage of a promise. I know now that the real 
 bond which exists between us is one that is not 
 dependent for its endurance upon any formal promise 
 — upon any formal engagement. I trust you, my 
 Josephine, and I know that you can trust me. 
 Mutual confidence holds us together." 
 
 And then he took off his hat to Sir Digby and Lady 
 Swan, and there was something in his action, Josephine 
 thought, that compelled them to stop and shake hands 
 with him and with her also, for she was acquainted 
 with the great ex-Solicitor-General and his wife. 
 
 Curiously enough, that little movement on his 
 part — a movement which suggested that he expected 
 something more than a formal recognition — imparted 
 to her an element of distrust. But it was not until 
 several other fellow guests had come up and joined her 
 group, separating her effectually from Ernest Clifton, 
 that she began to be dimly conscious of the truth — 
 that she became aware of the fact that, while he had 
 been ostentatiously knocking off her shackles of iron, 
 he had been gently imposing on her shackles of gold. 
 He had so contrived, by the adroitness of his words, 
 that she should remain bound to him by a tie far 
 stronger than that from which he had just released her. 
 
202 According to Plato 
 
 He had spoken quite truly ; in telling her that 
 he trusted her completely, he had put upon her a 
 bondage from which she would not try to escape. 
 He had, so to speak, torn up her I O U before her, 
 eyes, and had thereby turned the debt for which he 
 held security into a debt of honour. 
 
 She felt that she had a right to resent this, and 
 her feeling was that of a person who has been got 
 the better of by another in a bargain, and who has 
 come to be aware of the fact. She resented his 
 cleverness of attitude in regard to her. There is no 
 love strong enough to survive a display of cleverness 
 on the part of either the man or the woman, and in 
 her irritation of the moment she felt very bitterly 
 regarding the man. " Trickster " was actually the 
 word that was in her mind at the moment. It 
 never occurred to her that a liberal allowance should 
 be made for any man who has attained to a fore- 
 most position as a political organiser. 
 
 She should have known that, to judge a profes- 
 sional politician by the ordinary standards that one 
 instinctively employs in estimating the actions of 
 people whom one meets in social life, is scarcely 
 fair. She should have known that there is honour 
 among politicians just as there is honour — its 
 existence is proverbial — among the representatives 
 of a mode of living whose affiliation with the profes- 
 sion of politics has not yet been fully recognised in 
 England, though it is in America ; but the standard 
 
According to Plato 203 
 
 of honour among either class of practitioner is not 
 just the same as that which prevails at a public 
 school or even in a public house. The art of jerry- 
 mandering is scarcely one that would be practised 
 by the Chevalier Bayard ; but it is an art that 
 statesmen have studied with great advantage to them- 
 selves, without fear and without reproach — except, of 
 course, the reproach of the opposing statesman, in 
 which case it is only a form of flattery. 
 
 Josephine West had talked a good deal about the 
 point of view, and the sense of perspective and other 
 abstractions ; and yet she could feel irritated because 
 she fancied that a man who had reduced dissimulation 
 to a science, had not been quite frank with her. 
 
 She was still suffering from this irritation when 
 Amber Severn came up to her, accompanied by 
 Pierce Winwood. 
 
 " I thought that as I should see you here, I need 
 not write to remind you that you are to come to 
 us at The Weir to-morrow week," cried Amber. 
 
 " Is to-morrow week one of the dates that we 
 agreed upon last month ? " asked Josephine. 
 
 " Yes ; you have got it all properly noted in 
 your book. We shall be a quiet little party. 
 Mr. Winwood is coming." 
 
 " That is a sufficient guarantee," said Josephine 
 nodding to Mr. Winwood. They had reached these 
 confidential terms, having met frequently since they 
 had had their little chat together in the rose garden. 
 
204 According to Plato 
 
 " My ordinary deportment is chilling to the 
 Hooligan element," said Winwood. " Miss Severn 
 mentioned my name to allay your suspicions." 
 
 " Our only excitement is to be the visit which 
 we are to pay to The Gables," said Amber. " Guy 
 has invited us to drink tea on his lawn." 
 
 " That is something to look forward to," said 
 Josephine. 
 
 " I hope his caterer is not the Casa Frangipani," 
 said Winwood. 
 
 And then two or three other people joined their 
 group, and Winwood got parted from Amber by the 
 thoughtfulness of Lord Lullwdrth, who, it seemed, 
 was an emissary from his mother, the Countess of 
 Castlethorpe. The great lady hoped, according to 
 Lord Lullworth, that Miss Severn would consent to be 
 presented to her, and, of course. Miss Severn would 
 not be so absurd as to return a rude answer to a 
 request which represented so modest an aspiration. 
 
 By this means Lord Lullworth, who had great 
 difficulty in finding his mother, had for a companion 
 for quite half an hour of this lovely afternoon, Miss 
 Severn, and for even a longer space of time Josephine 
 West was by the side of Pierce Winwood beneath 
 the red brick walls which had once sheltered a great 
 man of letters. 
 
 They talked of the great man of letters and, 
 indeed, other topics. 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 A MBER had come to the conclusion that it would 
 ■^^ be better fer her to be frank with her friend 
 Josephine in regard to the personnel of her fellow 
 guests at The Weir for the Sunday. A month had 
 passed since Josephine had promised to keep herself 
 disengaged for this particular Sunday, but in the 
 meantime a good many things had happened, the 
 most important being (as she fancied) the dinner 
 at Ranelagh, which had given a certain amount 
 of prominence to Mr. Winwood, and had aroused 
 a curious prejudice against him on the part of 
 Josephine. It was thus, she thought, only fair to 
 Josephine to tell her that Mr. Winwood had also 
 promised to go to The Weir for the Sunday, so 
 that, if she felt that another day spent in his company 
 would be insupportable, she might have a chance 
 of concocting some excuse for remaining in town. 
 
 The daughter of a politician of eminence should 
 be at no loss for a plausible excuse to extricate 
 herself from the consequences of a promise of a 
 month's standing. She should have at her command 
 — even though her father did not actually belong 
 to the Cabinet — a sufficiency of that subtle element 
 
 20S 
 
2o6 According to Plato 
 
 called (by the organs of the Opposition) tergiversation, 
 to tide her over a shoal place. 
 
 It was this thoughtfulness on the part of Amber 
 that impelled her to let Josephine know that Mr. 
 Winwood also had promised to go to The Weir, 
 and she felt greatly relieved to find that her friend 
 did not make any attempt to draw upon her imagina- 
 tion for an excuse to prevent her joining the party 
 at Sir Creighton's riverside cottage. 
 
 She wondered if Josephine's prejudice was abating 
 already, or if she was merely showing how polite 
 she could be. 
 
 It was when she was trying to recover from the 
 startling effects of the return of Pierce Winwood 
 to the drawing-room after the departure of Lord 
 Lullworth, that her father came to her, saying some- 
 thing about Pierce Winwood. 
 
 " I am very glad you asked him here," he had said. 
 " Yes ; he was able to convince me of his identity." 
 
 " So you remembered his father's name after all ? " 
 said Amber. 
 
 " Yes — oh, yes. I remembered his father's name." 
 
 " It was the story that brought it back to you ? " 
 
 " Yes — that singular story." 
 
 " You were able to tell him the names of the 
 people — the names that he was so anxious to 
 find out ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ; I was able to — to satisfy him on this 
 point. By the way, he and Josephine had some 
 
According to Plato 207 
 
 chat together in the garden. I could see them from 
 my window." 
 
 Amber shook her head, and then said : 
 
 " Poor fellow ! " 
 
 " Why ■ poor fellow,' pray ? " asked her father, 
 raising his eyebrows. 
 
 " I am afraid that he — that is — I'm not quite sure 
 that I should tell you that " 
 
 " Let me know what it is you are in doubt about, 
 and I will give you my best advice on this doubtful 
 and delicate point," said he. 
 
 "If you decide that I shouldn't have told you, 
 will you let it be as if I hadn't told you ? " she 
 asked, clasping her hands over his arm. 
 
 " Certainly I will," he replied. " The terms are 
 quite honourable." 
 
 " Then I may tell you that an hour after leaving 
 this room he returned." 
 
 " For an umbrella ? — that's what they do in plays. 
 They always come back for the umbrella which, 
 by the most careful inadvertency, they have left 
 behind them. But he didn't come back to let you 
 know that, owing to the distractions of lunch, he had 
 forgotten to mention that he loved you ? " 
 
 " Worse, much worse. He came to ask me if 
 Joe had given her promise to marry some one." 
 
 " Heavens above ! And did he specify the 
 some one ? " 
 
 " Oh, dear, no ; he had no one — that is to say. 
 
2o8 According to Plato 
 
 he had every one in his mind's eye. He could not 
 understand how it was possible that so sweet and 
 lovely a girl should have reached the age of 
 twenty-four without having given her promise to 
 marry some man." 
 
 " It does seem a bit queer, doesn't it ? Well ? " 
 
 " That's all. I told him, of course, that Joe 
 was quite free." 
 
 " Of course. But that being so, where does your 
 ' poor fellow ! ' come in ? Why not ' lucky fellow ' ? " 
 
 Amber shook her head more sadly than she had 
 shaken it before. 
 
 " The pity of it ! the pity of it ! " she murmured. 
 "Poor Joe!" 
 
 "Poor yourself!" laughed Sir Creighton. "You 
 cannot be ambitious enough to wish to include all 
 the world in your pity. Why ' Poor Josephine ' ? " 
 
 " She confessed to me that she hated him," said 
 Amber in a whisper — the whisper of an aspen — 
 tremulous rather than sibilant. 
 
 " What ! hated him ? I had no idea that she 
 cared so much as that for him already," said her 
 father. " Are you sure that she confessed to hating 
 him ? " 
 
 Amber's hands dropped from his arm, but her 
 eyes did not drop from his face. 
 
 " Do you mean — you cannot mean — that — that 
 all may yet be well ? " she cried. 
 
 " My dear girl," said he, smiling a smile which 
 
According to Plato 209 
 
 he had provisionally patented since his daughter 
 had made it a practice to consult him on curious 
 points of psychology and diction and deportment. 
 " My dear daughter, I have, as you well know, little 
 time to devote to the study of temperament or 
 poetry or unpractical things of that sort, but I have 
 seen enough in the course of a busy, and not wholly 
 unobservant life, to convince me that when a young 
 woman goes so far as to confess that she hates any 
 particular young man, or old man, for that matter, 
 she has gone very far in the direction of saying that 
 she loves that particular man. I don't say that 
 Josephine " 
 
 " She doesn't. She doesn't — at least — I don't 
 believe that she has thought about him one way 
 or another. She was, however, quite polite to him 
 to-day." 
 
 " That's rather a bad sign, isn't it ? When a girl 
 is polite to a man whom she hates she makes one 
 feel that his chances with her are reduced. But 
 of one thing you may be sure — yea, of two things 
 you may be certain : the first is that no girl hates 
 a man of which she has not been thinking a great 
 deal ; the second is that no girl hates a man unless 
 she knows that he loves her and that she cannot 
 love him in return." 
 
 " How curious ! How very curious ! You are 
 sure — quite sure ? " 
 
 " There are variants," said the man of science. 
 
 14 
 
2IO According to Plato 
 
 " But one cannot study the properties of the 
 positive and negative currents of electricity for forty 
 years without learning something of the elementary 
 principles of attraction and repulsion. The air was, I 
 think, strongly charged with electricity when the first 
 woman was born ; and that being so — don't you think 
 you might do worse than ask Winwood and Josephine 
 to join us at The Weir some of these days ? " 
 
 He was smoothing her hair gently. The action 
 was prettily paternal, but it was also strictly business- 
 like ; for was he not the inventor of that micro- 
 electrometer which is so marvellously sensitive 
 that it is capable of measuring the force of the 
 current generated by the stroking of a cat. He 
 had experimented on his daughter years ago. No 
 penalty attached to his doing so, though had he 
 tried his electrometer on the cat, he would have 
 laid himself open to a criminal prosecution. 
 
 She was all unconsious of the escaping voltage ; 
 she was puzzling out the hard sayings that had come 
 from her father. She was trying to see daylight 
 through the obstruction of his phrases and the 
 obscuration of his logic. 
 
 She shook her head, for the third time, saying : 
 
 " I'm in a bit of a mist just now. I should like 
 to think it all out." 
 
 " As if one can get out of a mist through much 
 thinking," said he. " Dearest daughter of my house 
 and heart, take my advice and think only when you 
 
According to Plato 211 
 
 cannot help thinking ; but remember that woman was 
 not made to think, but to act. It is man, foolish man, 
 who is so badly endowed of nature that he is com- 
 pelled to think out things. The woman who thinks 
 is about as womanly as the pantomime representation 
 of Old Mother Hubbard. Be a woman, my dear, 
 and assert your femininity by acting. Yes, acting 
 in accordance with no principle of logic, but strictly 
 in response to the prompting of your instinct." 
 
 He kissed her and looked at the timepiece. 
 
 " I'll write to Mr. Winwood," she said, somewhat 
 helplessly and hopelessly. " Joe long ago promised 
 to come to us at The Weir on Saturday week. But 
 I think I must tell her if he accepts the mater's 
 invitation." 
 
 " Oh, certainly ; that is the least you can do. 
 She was so polite to him to-day," said her father 
 from the door, smiling that registered smile of his, 
 and making his escape before she could put the ques- 
 tion to him which that smile invariably prompted. 
 
 She felt that it was all very well for him to 
 advise her not to think out any matter ; it was 
 not so easy, however, for her to refrain from thinking, 
 seeing that he had led her into the perilous paths 
 of thought long ago. He had taught her the art 
 of thinking long ago, and yet now he could airily 
 assure her that she was very foolish, and — what 
 was much the same thing — very unwomanly to try 
 to think herself out of a difficult place ! 
 
212 According to Plato 
 
 Well, that showed he was a man, anyway — a 
 man as illogical as the most sapient savant can 
 be, and that is saying a good deal. 
 
 The suggestions made to her by her father, had, 
 however, considerably widened the horizon of her 
 consideration, so to speak. That is to say, she had 
 only been thinking how admirably Josephine had 
 succeeded in hiding beneath a mask of politeness 
 her ill-founded prejudice against Mr. Winwood ; 
 whereas now she was led to consider the possibility 
 of that mask of hers concealing a good deal more. 
 She had been pitying, first, Mr. Winwood for having 
 been so impulsive as to fall in love with Josephine ; 
 and, secondly, Josephine for having been so impulsive 
 as to conceive a prejudice that might interfere with 
 her happiness in the future. 
 
 But now, it seemed that she need not have pitied 
 either of them — if her father's suggestions were 
 worth anything. 
 
 And then she had given an exclamation of 
 derision and had begun to think of other matters. 
 She meant the exclamation to bear upon the wisdom 
 of her father, veiled (as so much wisdom may be 
 if one is only wise) in a fine lacework of phrases. 
 Her father's Valenciennes phrases were much 
 admired ; they had a charming and delicate pattern 
 of their own, which perhaps some people liked more 
 than the wisdom whose features they partially con- 
 cealed ; and the design of his Point de Venise was so 
 
According to Plato 213 
 
 striking that no one was in the least curious as to 
 whether it concealed any thought or not. 
 
 Thus it was that Sir Creighton's daughter found 
 it necessary to make use of a derisive exclamation, 
 finding that when she had looked for wisdom from 
 her father, he had given her a phrase — the lace 
 cerement of wisdom. 
 
 And then she gave a more emphatic exclamation 
 when she reflected upon the possibility of Josephine's 
 polite demeanour being as opaque as her father's 
 paradoxes. She had believed that the embroidered 
 domino of politeness — that makes a variation from 
 the rather flimsy trope of the lace — concealed within 
 its folds only her friend's dislike for the presence of 
 Mr. Winwood ; but now it had been suggested to 
 her that there was a good deal below the billowy 
 surface of the ornamented fabric that she had never 
 suspected to exist there. 
 
 She said " Psha ! " also " Phu ! " and " Phi ! " and 
 gave vent to all those delicately modulated breathings 
 with long-drawn sibilants which moments of staccato 
 derision suggest to those young women who have 
 not trained themselves to the more robust verbiage 
 ol condemnation — sounds like the stamping of 
 Alpine heels upon a solid pavement. 
 
 It was of course a great relief to the girl to give 
 way to those half tones of vituperation — those 
 dainty slipper-taps as it were, of impatience. But, 
 after all, the real relief that she experienced was in 
 
214 According to Plato 
 
 the diversion of her thoughts from the possible dis- 
 simulation of her father and her friend, to the plain 
 and simple language made use of by Lord Lullworth 
 in her presence. 
 
 Lord Lullworth was, of course, a fellow with 
 no pretensions to brain power — with no delicate 
 appreciation of the subtleties of language. But 
 beyond a shadow of doubt Amber felt the greatest 
 relief to her mind in reflecting upon his extraordinary 
 frankness. There, at any rate, was a man who knew 
 exactly what he meant and who was able to com- 
 municate to another person exactly what he meant. 
 To be sure, what he did mean was something too 
 absurd to be entertained for a moment ; still it had 
 been clearly defined and — yes, it was not without 
 picturesqueness and — yes, it was undeniably a relief 
 to think about him. 
 
 Only an hour had passed since she had been 
 lying back among her cushions, reflecting, by the 
 help of the Florentine mirror, upon the situation of 
 the moment. She had at that time been led, out of 
 a feeling that Lord Lullworth should have fair play, 
 to think of him in active and brutal contest with 
 the other young men who had been drinking tea 
 with her ; but now she found that, even judged 
 from a lofty standpoint,, he was susceptible of being 
 thought about with positive pleasure — well, if not 
 absolute pleasure, certainly with satisfaction — the 
 satisfaction which comes from a sense of relief. 
 
According to Plato 215 
 
 And then she found that really his frankness had 
 not been unpicturesque as a pose. She began to feel 
 that a great misapprehension existed in the minds 
 of most people in regard to frankness. She knew 
 that the general feeling is that if candour is insolence 
 in a white surplice, frankness is rudeness in rags. 
 That misapprehension was allowed to exist simply 
 because so many people who were really clever, 
 never found that it suited them to be frank. They 
 had given all their attention to the art of not being 
 frank, just as some women give up all their time 
 to dress, neglecting their minds, to say nothing 
 of their souls, in order that they may appear well 
 dressed. She felt convinced that if a really clever 
 man were to study frankness as an art he might 
 be able to make a good thing out of it. At any 
 rate it would be a novelty. 
 
 Yes ; Lord Lullworth had certainly struck out 
 a path for himself, and had made some progress 
 upon it — quite enough to impress her, and to cause 
 her some remorse when she reflected upon her having 
 thought of him as a fool. 
 
 Lord Lullworth undoubtedly had made an appre- 
 ciable amount of progress when he had impelled 
 the girl who had first thought of him only as a 
 young fool, to give herself over to the consideration 
 of his position as an athlete ; then of his position as 
 a relieving influence coming after the distractions of 
 intellectuality ; and, finally, of his position as an 
 
2i6 According to Plato 
 
 original thinker — the pioneer of a cult which might 
 yet become a power in a society where dissimulation 
 flourishes. 
 
 And what marked the extent of his progress 
 more vividly was the fact that the result of her 
 consideration of the young man from every successive 
 standpoint only strengthened his place in her esteem. 
 
 Then her mother wrote the invitation to Mr. 
 Winwood for Saturday week, and he accepted it in 
 due course ; and it was on the Wednesday next 
 before that Saturday that Amber met Josephine on 
 the terrace of the great historic house in Kensington, 
 and reminded her that she had engaged herself 
 to sojourn at The Weir from Saturday to Monday. 
 
 That was not the only engagement of which 
 Josephine was conscious. 
 
 Still, she had been able to shoot a dart of pretty 
 badinage, with a barb touched with sugar instead 
 of gall, in the direction of Mr. Winwood at that 
 moment ; and thus Amber had gone home more 
 amazed than ever. 
 
 But not before she had been charmed by her 
 gracious reception at the hands of the Countess 
 of Castlethorpe. 
 
 No young man with a mother so perfectly 
 charming could be unworthy of consideration, she 
 felt. 
 
 And thus Lord Lullworth took another stride along 
 the perilous path upon which he had set his feet. 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 
 L"" VEN when he was living for two days in the 
 — ' retirement of his cottage on the bank of the 
 river Thames, Sir Creighton Severn was too busy 
 a man to find time to join the little company who 
 set out in his launch on the Sunday to pay the 
 visit which his daughter had promised to the new 
 proprietor of The Gables. He was not so utterly 
 overwhelmed with business, however, but that he 
 could look forward to two hours of solitude and 
 slumber during their absence. He calculated, with- 
 out the aid of logarithms, that the little company 
 would be absent for two hours, and he proposed 
 spending twenty minutes of this space in the enjoy- 
 ment ot his solitary cigar on the lawn, and the 
 remaining hour and forty minutes on one of the long 
 cane chairs in a bower overclustered by clematis, 
 blue and white, and hidden away from the intrusive 
 inquiries ot impressionable flies and impossible 
 visitors. 
 
 He had no doubt that a visit to The Gables 
 would be very interesting — as a matter of fact, he 
 found most things in the world very interesting 
 
 — but, as he remarked with a sigh that fully 
 
 217 
 
2i8 According to Plato 
 
 expressed his gratification at the thought, a busy 
 man must make up his mind to forego a good 
 many of those enjoyments which he most detested. 
 
 The utmost satisfaction that he could allow him- 
 self in connection with this expedition was seeing 
 the departure of the electric launch from the little 
 stage at the water's edge. But this enjoyment, 
 though only lasting a few minutes, was intense 
 while it did last. His wife understood his feelings 
 thoroughly. It was not often that she was able 
 when up the river to withdraw her guests in so 
 solid a body, leaving Sir Creighton to the solitude 
 of his bower. 
 
 Her guests pitied him. Some of the more sapient 
 ones shook their heads and talked about burning 
 the candle at both ends. 
 
 She only smiled in response, and said that it did 
 not matter when the candle was an electric one. 
 
 And so the launch made its noiseless way toward 
 the lock at Hurley. 
 
 The cottage known as The Weir was quite a small 
 place. It could only accommodate six or seven 
 visitors at once in addition to Sir Creighton's family 
 and the usual maids which the visitors brought with 
 them ; it was just the snug little nook that would 
 suit any one who did not want to keep more than 
 two gardeners and half a dozen servants. The 
 Quarry Woods were behind it, and the waters of the 
 weir at Marlow whispered a perpetual " Hush " in the 
 
According to Plato 219 
 
 ears of all the household. Sometimes, however, 
 the sound was sufficiently loud to drown the silly 
 bleatings of the gramaphones on the excursion 
 steamers on the other side. 
 
 The fellow guests of Josephine and Pierce on this 
 particular Sunday were only two — a man and his 
 wife who were entering on the third month of married 
 life, and living as if they were utterly regardless 
 of the likelihood that they had forty years or so 
 ahead of them. They sat far astern, not exactly 
 side by side, but within easy reach of each other's 
 hands. They thought it well to be prepared for any 
 emergency. 
 
 The Gables was scarcely a mile beyond Hurley. 
 It had now and again peeped into the pages of 
 English history during the two hundred years of its 
 existence. It was only because it had not let very 
 readily since the death of its late owner, that the 
 agents thought it advisable to apply the Nell Gwyn 
 legend to it. The imagination of the house agent 
 is bounded on every side by Nell Gwyn. He 
 has not the least notion who Nell Gwyn was, and 
 he doesn't greatly care ; but he knows that as a jog 
 to the dilatory purchaser, there is no name so potent 
 in a catalogue, whether the " item " refers to a public 
 house or a rectory. 
 
 Nell Gwyn had been dead for several years before 
 The Gables was built. It was quite another actress 
 who had found it a convenient place of jest for a 
 
2 20 According to Plato 
 
 season, but even in respect of the date of her residence 
 beneath its roof some doubt exists ; for at the very 
 period assigned to her occupancy of the house it is 
 known that it vi^as in the possession of a Royal 
 personage, a circumstance which, of course, proves 
 that a confusing error must have crept into the dates. 
 
 But it is certain that an historical duel once took 
 place on the lawn — a duel in which a distinguished 
 nobleman ran his dearest friend through the vitals, 
 and subsequently was himself stabbed by the husband 
 of the lady with whom his former antagonist was 
 in love. 
 
 The duel took place with swords on the lawn ; 
 but the successive owners of the house have pointed 
 out for generations the marks of the bullet on the 
 painted wainscot of one of the drawing-rooms and 
 the mahogany Hepplewhite chair, a portion of the 
 carving of which was injured by the same missile, 
 No one has yet ventured to explain how it was that 
 the bullet in a duel fought with swords, killed a man 
 who was run through the body, and then injured 
 the carving of a chair made of a wood that was not 
 introduced into England until forty years later, and 
 by an artist who was not born at the time. 
 
 Still there are the bullet marks, and they were 
 pointed out with pride by the new owner of the 
 house to his guests who had joined his house-party 
 this evening. 
 
 And the girls, who knew all about the house. 
 
According to Plato 221 
 
 laughed quite pleasantly, and the young man from 
 Australia said that servants were very careless, which 
 was an absurd remark to make when talking about 
 historic deeds and the eccentricities of bullets. 
 
 Lady Severn said that the room wanted badly 
 to be dusted, and this was quite true, as every 
 member of the house-party — they were three in 
 number : namely, Galmyn, Bateman, and another — 
 were ready to testify. 
 
 The historic house was not seen to the greatest 
 advantage at that time ; but so far as one could 
 gather, the pride of the new owner in possessing 
 it was quite as great as if the place were habitable. 
 It was far from habitable, a casual observer might 
 have been led to believe. After crossing the high 
 grass on the lawn — the proprietor explained apolo- 
 getically that he had been offered fifteen shillings 
 for the hay crop, but he meant to hold out for 
 a pound— the visitors skirted the enormously over- 
 grown shrubs and the undipped yew hedges, until 
 they found themselves stumbling over the hillocks of 
 what had once been a rose garden, now given over 
 to the riotous luxuriance of the flaming dandelion, 
 the tangled masses of the blue periwinkle, and the 
 persistent nasturtium. The whole place resembled 
 nothing so closely as a neglected graveyard. 
 
 Guy Overton and his house-party trooped out 
 to meet them from the big entrance-hall ; and it 
 was plain that the little party had been playing 
 
2 22 According to Plato 
 
 billiards, for one of them appeared in the porch 
 with a cue still in his hand, and they all seemed 
 warm and dusty, having hastily struggled back into 
 their coats, as garden snails retire to their shells 
 when surprised. 
 
 " Is it possible that you have been playing 
 billiards indoors such a lovely afternoon as this ? " 
 cried Amber in grave surprise. 
 
 " Oh no, not billiards, only snooker," said Guy. 
 
 " You should be ashamed of yourselves," said 
 Amber. 
 
 " How could they do it when so charming a 
 garden is smiling at them here ? " asked Pierce. 
 
 " Well, to tell you the truth, we have had only 
 a poor kind of game," said Guy, with an exculpatory 
 inflection. " In fact, I don't think it could be 
 called a game at all." 
 
 " Then there is the less excuse for your spending 
 your time over it," said Amber. 
 
 " When all nature calls to you rapturously from 
 the cemetery outside," added Pierce, 
 
 " Oh, that's all my aunt ! " cried Guy, impatient 
 of sarcasm. " The garden is a bit depressing just 
 now, but sooner than take fifteen bob for the hay 
 crop, I'd give it away." 
 
 " That would be an extreme measure, indeed," 
 said Pierce. " Take my advice, Guy ; let it 
 continue increasing in luxuriance until the winter, 
 and then sell it when the hay is getting scarce." 
 
According to Plato 223 
 
 " Welcome to The Gables ! " cried Guy hospitably, 
 as the party passed through the porch into the 
 hall. " Welcome all ! I hope this may be the 
 first of many pleasant visits to my humble home." 
 
 " How nicely said ! " cried Lady Severn. " I am 
 sure that we all share your kind hopes, Mr. Overton.'' 
 
 The hall was a spacious apartment with a 
 transparent dome roof and mullioned windows. 
 Here and there on the walls hung trophies of the 
 chase, done in plaster of Paris, beautifully tinted 
 (an idea due to the house agent), and some excellent 
 specimens of drapers' Japanese. The floor was 
 beautifully inlaid, as one could see where the borders 
 remained free from the earthy layer that had 
 been transferred from the garden by the boots of 
 (it seemed) half a century. 
 
 Cobwebs hung from the beams of the roof like 
 the tattered regimental colours in a church, and 
 here and there a piece of plaster had disappeared 
 from above the panels of the walls. The remaining 
 breadth of plaster bore countless round marks on 
 its surface, suggesting that some one had designed 
 a new and curious scheme of decoration, but had 
 failed to invest it with artistic interest. 
 
 It was while Josephine and Pierce were examining 
 these singular impressions on the wall that Guy 
 explained their origin. 
 
 " The fact is," he said, " we played a billiard or 
 two last night, and, as the tables hadn't been used 
 
224 According to Plato 
 
 for five or six years, there was no chalk. But 
 Galmyn, not to be beat, hit upon the notion of 
 rubbing the tips of our cues against the plaster 
 of the walls. The idea worked remarkably well." 
 
 " It was worthy of the imagination of a poet," 
 said Pierce, feeling the cushions of the table and 
 laughing. " You must have had a joyous time 
 over this table," he added. " The cushions are 
 clearly made of chilled steel." 
 
 " They are a bit hard, aren't they ? " said Guy. 
 " Yes ; we found that they hadn't much spring left 
 in them." 
 
 "Spring?'" cried Mr. Galmyn. "Spring? No; 
 there's more that suggests Winter than Spring 
 about them." 
 
 " They'll be all right when they are played on 
 for some time," said Guy. 
 
 " Oh, yes ; in a year or two they'll be like 
 butter," said Pierce encouragingly. "Your light 
 wasn't particularly good, I should say ? " 
 
 He pointed to a splash of wax about the size 
 of a crown-piece on the edge of one of the pockets. 
 
 " That chap is a regular Sherlock Holmes ! " cried 
 Guy. " He has found out that we played by the 
 light of candles last night." 
 
 On the shelf of the mantelpiece stood a pair 
 of silver candelabra with remnants of candle still 
 in the sockets, but a good way out of the upright. 
 Splashes of wax decorated the path from the 
 
According to Plato 225 
 
 billiard-table to the fireplace, suggesting the white 
 stones alongside a carriage drive. 
 
 " Only one cue had a tip," said Guy. " That 
 made playing a bit tiresome : you see we had 
 to pass it on for every stroke. We had best go 
 on to the drawing-room. The ceiling is said to 
 have been painted by Angelica Kauffmann — 
 whoever she was." 
 
 " I never saw a painted ceiling that poor Miss 
 Angel hadn't something to say to," whispered 
 Josephine as the party trooped through the open 
 door. 
 
 It was as Lady Severn had said : the drawing- 
 room stood sadly in need of dusting. 
 
 So, for that matter, did every other room, to say 
 nothing of the stairs, which were carpetless. The 
 house was not quite a wreck ; but one felt one- 
 self instinctively quoting lines from Tennyson's 
 " Mariana " as one stood — it was scarcely safe to 
 sit — in any of the rooms. There were bald patches 
 upon some of the walls that had once — long 
 ago — been painted ; but as a sort of compensation 
 for this deficiency, as a member of the party 
 remarked when it was pointed out to him, there 
 were several patches on the wall that were not bald 
 but quite the contrary ; for, indeed, the mildew had 
 been at work, increasing the forlorn appearance of 
 the place. 
 
 But the new proprietor was very proud of 
 
 IS 
 
2 26 According to Plato 
 
 everything — of the patches on the wall that marked 
 where the plaster had become dislodged, — of the 
 hirsute patches that had been subject to the damp — 
 of the bullet marks that he considered the visible 
 signs of the duel fought with swords — nay, even of 
 the rat that went scurrying across a room which he 
 called the library, the moment the door was opened. 
 Oh, there were plenty of rats, he declared — some 
 fine, fat, healthy animals ; he talked of them as 
 though they were part of the livestock of the 
 estate. 
 
 And in the drawing-room, after a depressing 
 ramble through the dreary house, tea was served 
 by a couple of elderly women (local), and it was 
 certainly not deficient in strength. Neither was 
 the cake (local), nor the china. Young Mr. Overton 
 was already making a heroic attempt to introduce a 
 scheme of economy that should tend to lessen the 
 dead weight of the expense to which he had been 
 put in purchasing the historic house. 
 
 Some members of the party wished that he had 
 gone a little further in the same direction and had 
 refrained from forcing his recherche entertainment 
 upon them. They swallowed a portion of the black 
 tea, however, and congratulating him upon the 
 appearance of everything — for any one who was 
 fond of developing a property, as he assured them 
 he was, the state of the house and grounds left 
 nothing to be desired — wondered secretly why he 
 
According to Plato 227 
 
 should have asked them to visit such a scene of 
 desolation. 
 
 If Amber was among those who marvelled what 
 his motive could be, her doubts were dispelled when 
 she found herself alone with him at one of the 
 drawing-room windows ; the other members of the 
 party had made their escape to the field of grass, 
 called, by a daring figure of speech, a lawn ; but she 
 had allowed herself to be persuaded to sample, so 
 to speak, a view from a side window. She admitted 
 that the silver of the river gleaming between the 
 yew hedges was very effective, and felt convinced 
 that it would be improved by a judicious trimming 
 of the shrubs. 
 
 " And you like the old place ? " said he. "It 
 has surprised you, hasn't it ? " 
 
 " Surprised me ? Well — oh, yes, it certainly 
 surprised me," she replied. " You are looking 
 forward to a delightful time with it, are you not ? 
 I suppose it wouldn't have had the same attraction 
 for you if it had been in any better condition ? " 
 
 " Amber," he said in a whisper which had some- 
 thing of shyness lingering in its tremulous emotion, 
 "Amber, I lay it all at your feet." 
 
 She allowed him to catch her hand — she was too 
 puzzled to be able to keep it from him. Was this 
 his way of saying good-bye ? she wondered. 
 
 " I lay everything here at your feet ; if you like 
 it, it is all yours," he cried. 
 
228 According to Plato 
 
 " Don't be a goose, Guy," she said, snatching her 
 hand away. " What on earth would I do with 
 such a place as this ? " 
 
 " Come to it — be the chatelaine of my castle, 
 reign here. Amber, as you do in my heart. I got 
 the place cheap ; but I shall spend money on it — 
 by degrees — to make it worthy of your acceptance. 
 Amber, my own — my " 
 
 At this point a rat put in an appearance at the 
 side of the door and rushed out through the 
 open window. 
 
 " Was it for this you asked me to come here ? " 
 cried Amber, bravely ignoring what other girls 
 might have regarded as a legitimate interruption of 
 the scene. " Yes, you asked me to come here in 
 order to make your absurd proposal to me. You 
 should be ashamed of yourself, when you knew so 
 well that I thought of our friendship as wholly 
 disinterested. If I had, for one moment " 
 
 " I thought you saw it coming," said he, hanging 
 his head. 
 
 " What coming ? " 
 
 " This." 
 
 " You have given me a blow, Guy — I thought 
 that you were a sincere friend." 
 
 " So I was — I am. But I can't help loving you 
 all the same. Great Queen of Sheba ! you don't 
 fancy that what you call Platonic Friendship can go 
 on beyond a certain point. It's all very well for 
 
According to Plato 229 
 
 a beginning ; it makes a good enough basis for a 
 start. But, hang it all ! you don't think that a chap 
 with any self-respect would be content when there's 
 a pretty girl like you — the prettiest and the dearest 
 
 girl that ever lived Who the mischief is bawling 
 
 out there ? " 
 
 " They are calling to me from the launch," said 
 Amber. " It is just as well. Guy, I am not angry 
 — only disappointed. You have disappointed me. 
 
 I thought that you at least They are getting 
 
 impatient. I must go." 
 
 She hastened away through the open window, 
 and he followed her with a face of melancholy so 
 congenial with the prevailing note of the house, that 
 an artist would have been delighted to include him 
 in a picture of " The Gables from the River." 
 
 She ran through the long grass and reached the 
 launch so breathless that she could with difficulty 
 explain that she had been watching a rat. 
 
 Every one in the boat knew that Guy had been 
 asking her to marry him. Chaps only have that 
 hangdog expression, worn with some distinction by 
 Guy Overton, when they have been proposing to 
 girls, the threemonth husband explained to his wife. 
 
 A girl only shakes hands with a man so cordially 
 as Amber had shaken hands with Guy, when she 
 has just refused to marry him, Josephine knew. 
 
 And the boatman shifted the lever. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 ' I ^HERE was a field of wheat not so far from 
 
 The Weir. It was approached by a stile 
 
 from the roadway, and a narrow path went through 
 
 it to the woods as evenly as a canal divides a 
 
 landscape. At the farther end there was another 
 
 stile, and a bank of low trees, with a hollow 
 
 and a slope overgrown with grass and a myriad 
 
 of wild-flowers beloved by bees. A grass meadow 
 
 with a little stream creeping through it, and here 
 
 and there a tuft of rushes ; behind all the long 
 
 high ridge of the woods — these are the details of 
 
 which one becomes aware when one has begun to 
 
 recover from the vast wonder of the field of wheat. 
 
 Josephine was not wearing a hat. She had merely 
 
 picked up a crimson sunshade after breakfast on 
 
 the Monday, and had gone alone strolling through 
 
 the garden, a magazine under her arm. She had 
 
 given her maid instructions to be ready to start 
 
 for town after lunch — the other guests, with the 
 
 exception of Pierce Winwood, had already taken 
 
 their departure, and Pierce Winwood had gone to 
 
 Marlow with Lady Severn and Amber. That was 
 
 how Josephine came to be alone, and to be glad 
 
 230 
 
According to Plato 231 
 
 to be alone. She had become aware of the fact 
 that she had something to think about, and she 
 hoped that half an hour on the green shorn breadths 
 of grass, with the river at her feet and the whisper 
 of the weir in her ears, would be a relief to her. 
 
 She strolled down the lawn to the river ; but a 
 steamer with people aboard drinking out of bottles 
 and playing on banjos, when the sexes had duly 
 exchanged hats, was hooting for the lock-keeper, 
 so she turned away to the upper part of the garden. 
 She found that she had" more to think about than 
 the garden would contain, so she passed out by the 
 little gate to the silent road, and stood for a 
 moment looking along its dusty curve to where it 
 got lost in the dimness of overshadowing trees ; and 
 then, in the other direction, where it twisted round 
 by the boat-house at the bridge. She began to walk 
 in this direction, slowly and listlessly, and when 
 she came to the stile leading to the wheat-field, 
 she mounted it, and remained for some time on 
 the topmost step, gazing along the surface of that 
 yellow flaming plain, lost in the marvel of it, when 
 there came a wind too light for her to feel upon 
 her face, and fanned the moveless breadth of flame 
 into a thousand flickers, and the whole wide field 
 of twenty acres became quickly alive, and full of 
 the whisperings of newly acquired vitality. 
 
 She felt that she had never seen anything so 
 beautiful before. She leaped down from the topmost 
 
232 According to Plato 
 
 step to the path, with all the delight of the swimmer 
 springing into the sea. The waving mass closed on 
 her head for a moment, but when she recovered 
 herself she was head and shoulders above the grain. 
 She strolled along the flat track by the side of the 
 little bank, with blue wild-flowers on one hand, and 
 flaring poppies on the other, breathing of the fresh 
 warm sunlight that seemed to be enclosed between 
 the green bank and the serried lines of the ripe grain. 
 
 And then, where a space had been cleared by the 
 reaping machine, and the bundles of grain lay at 
 regular intervals along the ground, there arose from 
 under her very feet a flock of blue and white wood- 
 pigeons, and flew for a few dozen yards ahead, then 
 fell in an exquisite curve, the sunlight gleaming for 
 a moment upon every white feather in succession, 
 until all had dropped at the brink of the field. 
 
 When she reached the farther stile with the woods 
 at her back, she seated herself, feeling that she never 
 wished to get back to the world again — that she had 
 at last reached a spot where all the joy of life was to 
 be had. There was nothing better than this in all 
 the world — this breathing of warm air, this listening 
 to the hum of insects, this watching of the myraid 
 butterflies, fluttering, and flitting and poising over 
 everything that was sweet-smelling on the bank and 
 in the grass, this gazing on the rippling flames that 
 burned yellow into the distance where no ripple 
 stirred. The beauty and the quietness of it all ! 
 
According to Plato 233 
 
 The satisfied sense of waiting without emotion for 
 the heat of the noontide, of waiting, without longing, 
 for the poppy sunset — for the sounds of the evening, 
 the cooing of the wood-pigeons, the cawing of the 
 rooks, with now and again the rich contralto of 
 a blackbird's note. 
 
 And then the warm silence of a night powdered 
 with stars, as the soft blue of the sky became dark, 
 but without ceasing to be blue ! Oh, that summer 
 night ! 
 
 The thought of it all as she could imagine it, 
 meant rest. 
 
 That was what every one needed — rest ; and she 
 felt that she had wandered away from man and 
 into the very heart of the peace of God. 
 
 |fe «[f, %[> rfe jig 
 
 The thought that she had a thought which was 
 not one suggested by the landscape, irritated her. 
 She felt that she had a good reason for being irritated 
 with Ernest Clifton, who was responsible for her 
 failure to continue in this dream of perfect repose. 
 She felt irritated with him just as one is with a 
 servant who blunders into the room when one is 
 in a sleep of divine tranquillity. 
 
 During the few days that had passed since he had 
 surprised her — for a few moments — by giving her 
 the release for which she had asked him, only to 
 impose upon her a much stronger obligation, she had 
 been thinking over his trickery — the word had been 
 
234 According to Plato 
 
 forced upon her ; she felt quite shocked at its per- 
 sistent intrusion, but that made no difference ; the 
 word had come and the word remained with her 
 until she was accustomed to it. 
 
 But it was not until now that she asked herself 
 the question : 
 
 " How could I ever have fancied that I loved the 
 man who could thus juggle with me f " 
 
 She knew that what she had told him on that 
 Sunday at Ranelagh was quite true. She had been 
 greatly troubled for some months at the thought 
 that she was guilty of deception — a certain amount 
 of deception — in respect of her engagement to him. 
 The deceiving of her father and mother had become 
 at last unendurable to her. She began to despise 
 herself for it all, and to feel humiliated every time 
 she was by the side of Ernest Clifton when the eyes 
 of people were watching her. She had to act as if 
 he was nothing to her, and this dissimulation had 
 become unendurable, so that she had sought for the 
 opportunity of telling him that he must release her. 
 
 She thought that she cared for him even then — she 
 thought that the first step apart from him was taken 
 by her when she perceived that he did not believe 
 what she had said to him at that time. She knew 
 that he did not believe that it pained her to deceive 
 her father and mother — she knew that he was think- 
 ing, " Who is the Other Man ? " And then she was 
 conscious of taking the first step apart from him. 
 
According to Plato 235 
 
 But it was not a mere step that she had taken 
 away from him on that afternoon on the Italian 
 terrace of the Kensington garden, when she had 
 recovered from her surprise at his generosity only 
 to discover that he had tricked her — that he had 
 substituted a new bondage for the old from which 
 he had released her. No, it was not a mere step. 
 She became conscious of the fact that he and she 
 were miles asunder ; that she detested him so much 
 that she could scarcely realise that she had ever 
 cared a jot for him. And now 
 
 Well, now she was irritated that the thought that 
 she had yet to free herself entirely from him came 
 upon her, shattering with a note of discord her 
 crystal dream of peace. 
 
 She would write to him. No, she would see him 
 face to face before another day had passed, and tell 
 him that she perceived how he had juggled with her, 
 and that she declined to be bound to him by any tie. 
 It was a comfortable thought that she had need 
 only to tell him to ask her father's consent to 
 their engagement, and her separation from him 
 would be complete ; for she knew something of 
 the ambition of her father, and that he had other 
 views respecting her future than to marry her to 
 a man who, though perhaps possessing some power 
 as the wire-puller — the stage manager, as it were 
 — of a political party, was far from being a match 
 for the daughter of a man who hoped for a peerage. 
 
236 According to Plato 
 
 Mr. Clifton himself had been well aware of this fact, 
 as well as of the fact that he was not a persona grata 
 with Mr. West, or he would not have imposed upon 
 her that bondage of secrecy which had become so 
 irksome to her. 
 
 Yes ; she would tell him that unless her father 
 gave his consent, she would consider herself bound 
 in no way to him — not even by that subtle silken 
 cord of mutual faith, " mutual confidence holds us 
 together," was the phrase that he had employed. 
 
 She laughed at the thought of it. 
 
 " Does it — does it ? " she thought, through her 
 laugh. " Well, perhaps — but " 
 
 And then she started, hearing through the hum 
 of the wild bees about the sweet-briar of the grassy 
 bank, the sound of a step on the track leading from 
 the stile through the woods. She started, and then 
 her face flamed like the poppies at her feet, though 
 she must have seen in a moment that the man 
 who had vaulted over the rails of the stile, was no 
 stranger but only Pierce Winwood. 
 
 And then he too started and his face — but his 
 face being already the colour of a copper-beech, was 
 not susceptible of any poppy tint, although there 
 is an inward blushing, just as there is an inward 
 bleeding — far more fatal than the other. 
 
 Then they both laughed, with their heads thrown 
 back, after the manner of people who give them- 
 selves over to a laugh. 
 
According to Plato 237 
 
 It seemed that she was under the impression that 
 an apology for her presence there was necessary, 
 for there was more than an explanatory note in her 
 voice while she said : 
 
 " I had no idea that — why, I thought that you 
 had gone to Marlow ! I was in the garden, but there 
 was a horrible crowded steamer with a terrible 
 Hampsteading crowd aboard and a whistle. I came 
 out on the road and was amazed to find that I had 
 never heard that a wheat field is the most beautiful 
 thing in the world. How is it that the people here 
 have been talking on any other subject during the 
 past few days ? What else is there worth talking 
 about in comparison with this ? " 
 
 She made a motion with her sunshade to include 
 all the landscape ; but he saw nothing of it : he 
 was too busy looking at her. 
 
 " I wondered what it could be compared to," she 
 resumed with great rapidity. She did not show her 
 disappointment at his disregard of the glory of 
 mellow growth which she had taken the trouble to 
 indicate. " Oh, what is worthy of being mentioned 
 in the same breath as this ? . . . But how did you 
 come here from that direction ? " 
 
 " I crossed the river by the bridge and took a 
 stroll through the woods," said he. " I was not 
 sure that I should find a path through this field, 
 but when I saw the stile I had hopes." 
 
 " That is how people come upon the best things 
 
238 According to Plato 
 
 that life has in store for them — by the merest fluke," 
 said she, and she made a movement as if she under- 
 stood that they were to walk together to The Weir. 
 
 " Don't let us go away for another minute," said 
 he, without moving. 
 
 She turned her head only, with the sunshade 
 over it. An inquiry was on her face. 
 
 " Don't go away," he repeated. " I am about 
 to put those words of yours to the test." 
 
 " What words ? Did I say anything ? Oh, the 
 beauty of the wheat field ? I will not have it 
 analysed by any canon of criticism. If you say that 
 it is too yellow I shall never speak to you again." 
 
 " I will not say that, and yet, perhaps, you will 
 never speak to me again." 
 
 The smile faded away from her face at the tone 
 of his voice. 
 
 " I will listen to you," she said resolutely. 
 
 He looked into her face for a few moments, and 
 then he took a step or two away from her, actually 
 turning round to do so. His eyes were fixed on 
 the ground. 
 
 " You said that people come upon the best things 
 in life as — as I came here — to you, and I am 
 going to find out whether I have come upon the 
 best or the worst thing that life has to offer me, 
 for I am going to tell you that I love you, and 
 to ask you if you can give me any hope that you 
 will one day think of me as loving you." 
 
According to Plato 239 
 
 He was now standing face to face with her. 
 He spoke in a low voice but not in even tones, 
 until she gave a little cry — it sounded like a sob — 
 when he was half-way through his sentences, making 
 a motion of protest with one hand ; then his voice 
 became quite steady — steady almost to a point 
 of coldness. 
 
 She did not answer him at once. But there 
 came a silence through which they could both hear 
 the hum of the wild bees on the green bank. 
 
 The sulphur butterflies danced above them in 
 the air. 
 
 She watched the butterflies, and then glanced at 
 the bank. 
 
 "There is sweet-briar about here, I am sure," 
 she said, as if they had been discussing the 
 herbarium. 
 
 He thought he appreciated her mood of the 
 moment. 
 
 " Yes," he said ; " I think there must be sweet- 
 briar somewhere." 
 
 He did not stir hand or foot. His hands were 
 in the pockets of his jacket. 
 
 She took a few steps to the bank ; then her 
 sunshade slipped from her shoulder and fell awk- 
 wardly on the ground behind her, for she had no 
 hand to hold it; she was holding both her hands 
 to her face, sobbing in them. 
 
 He made no move. He did not even recovet: 
 
240 According to Plato 
 
 her sunshade, sprawling there — a mighty crimson 
 thing among the crimson poppies and the pink. 
 He could not understand her tears ; he only felt 
 that she could not be indifferent to him. There 
 are only two sorts of tears, and neither come from 
 indifference. 
 
 And then she seated herself on the bank and 
 wiped her tears away with her handkerchief He 
 saw how the sunlight was snared among the strands 
 of her hair. He had never known that it had 
 that reddish-gold tinge among its masses of rich 
 brown. It overwhelmed him with its beauty, but 
 still he could not move. He had a feeling that it 
 would be fatal for him to make the least movement. 
 
 He had ample time to admire this newly discovered 
 charm of her hair, for she did not look at him 
 nor did she speak until several minutes had passed. 
 
 Then she tossed from her the handkerchief that 
 she had rolled into a round mass, as a child flings 
 its ball away, and the recklessness that the act 
 suggested was prolonged in her voice, as she said: 
 
 " What a fool I am ! Why should I cry because 
 I know that you love me, when I too know that I 
 love you, and that whatever happens I shall marry 
 you — you — you — and not the man whom I promised 
 to marry ? What a fool ! " 
 
CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 T T E was beside her in a moment. An inarticu- 
 -*- -*• late sound of triumph had come from him 
 — the legacy of some carnivorous ancestor coeval 
 with Adam. He was kissing her hands, and her 
 face, and, when she bowed her head, he kissed the 
 shining beauty of her hair. 
 
 It had the savour of sunlight. 
 
 She did not take any great pains to prevent him. 
 She did not at that moment see that there was 
 a particular need to do so. It seemed to her so 
 good to be kissed by him. 
 
 He had an impression that she kissed him 
 back — once. 
 
 Then they looked into each other's faces and 
 laughed quite pleasantly. 
 
 " How funny, isn't it ? " she said ; " you have not 
 seen me more than half a dozen times." 
 
 He was unable to see what was funny in the 
 matter — that was why he laughed very seriously, 
 and whispered, " My beloved ! " in her ear. 
 
 " My beloved," he said again, holding her hand 
 close to him. " My beloved, never say that I have 
 not been seeing you all my life. From the time 
 
 241 16 
 
242 According to Plato 
 
 I first knew what love meant I loved you — an ideal 
 — I loved the ideal that was you. I wondered if 
 I should ever meet you. I hoped that I should, 
 or it would not have been worth my while to live. 
 But I met you — you came to me." 
 
 " Yes, I have come to you," she said. " But " 
 
 " Ah, why should you introduce that note of 
 discord ? " he cried. " You said something just 
 now — something — I wonder if I heard it aright. 
 Never mind. This hour is mine, is it not ? " 
 
 " I don't know," she said doubtfully. " You have 
 made it yours, have you not? Oh, yes, it must 
 be your hour — and mine. I suppose it must be 
 mine, too, because I never felt so happy before ; 
 and I do not even let the thought of — of — the 
 other man come between us." 
 
 There was a dreadful recklessness in her voice. 
 She could not help it ; she felt reckless at that moment. 
 She felt that she was retaliating justly upon the 
 man who had tricked her. She would have liked 
 if he had suddenly appeared on the other side of 
 the stile and looked on. She would have kissed 
 her lover before his face. What could he have 
 done to her? Did he really fancy that Pierce 
 Winwood would allow him to interfere ? If he 
 did, he was a fool. 
 
 He did not know that it is part of a woman's 
 nature to be reckless once in her life ; and he 
 became a little afraid of the way in which she was 
 
According to Plato 243 
 
 speaking to him. He did not know how she had 
 been driven ahead by the thought that another 
 man had tried to trick her into being true to 
 him. 
 
 She was having her retaliation. 
 
 He did not object in the least to be a participator 
 in it, though he knew nothing about it. He held 
 her hands in his own and looked into her face. 
 
 " You were right," he whispered ; " it is the best 
 day of my life. And I thought that I came here 
 by chance. You love me, don't you? I wonder 
 if you really do love me ? Shall I awaken and find 
 that this marvel of sunshine and summer has 
 fled for ever? Were you really thinking of me 
 as I came up? It seems ridiculous to hope so 
 much." 
 
 " I think I must have been thinking of you," 
 she said. " If I had not been thinking of you should 
 I have felt so. . . . Oh, I recollect now : I was not 
 thinking of you — I was only thinking of the love- 
 liness of the world — that was why I felt angry that 
 he had bound me to him — if I never really hated 
 him before, I hated him then. You will not let me 
 go back to him, will you ? You promise to keep 
 me from him ? " 
 
 She had caught him by the arm. All her reck- 
 lessness had vanished. She was appealing to him 
 as a child appeals to one for protection against a 
 bogey-man. 
 
244 According to Plato 
 
 He had his arms about her. 
 
 " No one shall take you from me," he said. 
 " Who is it that you fear, my dearest? " 
 
 She stared at him for some moments, and then 
 burst into a laugh. 
 
 " I forgot— I forgot," she cried. " You never 
 heard it. How was it possible for you to hear it ? " 
 
 Then she put down a hand to his that clasped 
 her waist, and held it away from her. Her eyes 
 were looking out over the whispering breadth of 
 the wheat field. The wood-pigeons were still rising 
 at intervals, and curving downward with a glint 
 of sunlight on their feathers. 
 
 She rose from where she was sitting against the 
 bank, and picked up her sunshade. 
 
 " I am afraid that it is all wrong," she said, 
 shaking her head. " I have been too sudden — I 
 had no right to listen to you — to tell you — but you 
 came upon me before I was aware of it, and 
 — oh, I told you just how I felt. As I kept 
 telling you, I felt I was telling myself the truth 
 for the first time. But — well, I was free — that is 
 to say, I should have been free if he had not said 
 that he trusted in me. That was his trick. . . . 
 Oh, why did you come here to-day ? Why — why 
 — why? Could you not have waited until I had 
 carried out my resolution to go to him and tell 
 him that I would not be bound by any trick of 
 his? You had no right to come as you did. 
 
According to Plato 245 
 
 I feel that I have been wrong — horribly wrong ! I 
 should have gone to him first." 
 
 " Yes ; but I came — I came, and you cannot 
 take back a word that you spoke — that's one good 
 thing anyway," said he in the voice of a man that 
 no woman's treble can oppose, unless it becomes 
 shrill, and there is a craning of the neck as it 
 is uttered. 
 
 "You will say that women have no sense of 
 honour — I have heard men say that," she continued, 
 and there was indignation in her voice. " No sense 
 of honour ! Perhaps we have not, but I meant — 
 yes, it was my sense of honour that made me make 
 up my mind to go to him and give him to under- 
 stand that I meant to be free — free, not merely 
 in name, but really free — free so that he should 
 have no right to say that he trusted me. He said 
 that he trusted me — those were his words ; they 
 sounded generous at the moment, but then I per- 
 ceived that — that " Her utterance became 
 
 more deliberate ; than it seemed to occur to her 
 that there was something wanting on the part of 
 her auditor ; there was a puzzled expression on 
 his face that puzzled her at first, interfering with 
 her fluency ; then all at once she seemed to 
 recollect that the extent of her knowledge of the 
 subject on which she was speaking, was a good 
 deal more than his could possibly be. How could 
 he be expected to know what had been kept 
 
246 According to Plato 
 
 a secret from her father and mother — from all 
 the world ? 
 
 " You know nothing," she said after a long pause. 
 " I shall have to tell you everything. Perhaps 
 you will feel that I have acted badly — disgracefully 
 — without a sense of honour. I daresay I have — 
 yes, I feel that I have behaved badly ; but it was 
 your fault. You came too soon. I tell you that 
 indeed I had thought it all out, and made up my 
 mind that I should be free from all blame." 
 
 " Tell me all that is on your mind, my dearest," 
 said he. " You have already told me all that is 
 in your heart." 
 
 " It doesn't matter what he may think — now, 
 does it ? " she cried. 
 
 " Nothing matters so long as we love each other," 
 he responded glibly and gladly. 
 
 " And it really isn't much after all that I have 
 to tell," she said. " How I ever came to agree 
 to his proposal, I cannot explain." 
 
 " Whose proposal ? " 
 
 " Whose ? — Whose ? Oh, you do not know even 
 so much. Listen. Nearly a year ago I fancied 
 that I was in love with Ernest Clifton. At any rate 
 he told me that he was in love with me, and I 
 admired him so much for the way he had worked 
 himself up from the humblest of positions — I suppose 
 that's the best explanation of the matter — I agreed 
 to marry him, and he also persuaded me to keep my 
 
According to Plato 247 
 
 engagement secret from the world ; he knew that 
 my father would not sanction it until at least he had 
 a seat in Parliament. Well, it was kept a secret ; 
 but I gradually so came to see that I was acting 
 wrongly — the thing so weighed upon me that I 
 was conscious of my whole character — my whole 
 nature changing, and I insisted on his releasing 
 me from my engagement." 
 
 " And he did so ? It would not matter to me 
 whether he did so or not ; but I suppose he was 
 wise enough to do so ? " 
 
 " After some time, and a letter or two, he said that 
 he released me ; and then — this was what made me 
 angry — he said, ' Between you and me there is no 
 need for the formality of an engagement. I have 
 implicit faith in you and I know that you have 
 implicit faith in me. We can trust each other.' 
 Now don't you see how despicably clever he was ? 
 Don't you see that while he released me with one 
 hand he was holding me to him with the other ? 
 Don't you see that in listening to you here to-day — 
 in admitting to you that it is you and none other 
 whom I love, I have acted dishonestly — shamefully, 
 if you insist on it." 
 
 " I don't insist on it. I am glad that I came here 
 when I did, taking you by surprise. I see clearly 
 that if I had not taken you by surprise I might never 
 have had a chance of hearing the truth from you — 
 the truth which has made a new man of me," 
 
248 According to Plato 
 
 " I don't agree with you," said she. " I feel 
 that when he trusted me — cannot you see that he 
 made it a question of honour with me ? Haven't 
 you heard of a soldier's farole? I have broken my 
 parole. That's what I feel." 
 
 " My dearest girl, do you fancy that parole can be 
 a one-sided agreement ? Is your sense of honour to 
 be entrapped by sophistry ? Talk oi parole — a man 
 to whom you consider yourself bound by a promise 
 releases you from the consequence of this promise, 
 and then tells you that though you promised not to 
 run away, and though he releases you from that 
 promise, he trusts in your honour not to run away. 
 What sophistry is this ? It might do well enough 
 for a political juggler, but it is not for such people 
 as you or I. You didn't say to him, did you ? — ' I 
 agree to be bound to you by the faith which we 
 have in each other.' " 
 
 "He took care to give me no chance of replying 
 to him one way or another." 
 
 " Then cannot you perceive that he had no claim 
 on you ? " 
 
 She was silent. The fact was that she did not 
 perceive it. But undoubtedly the way he proved 
 his point was agreeable to her. Of course it is quite 
 possible for a man to prove a point to a woman's 
 satisfaction and yet to leave her unsatisfied as to 
 whether or not his contention is correct. Pierce 
 Winwood had proved to this young woman that she 
 
According to Plato 249 
 
 had been well within her rights in accepting him 
 as her lover, and yet she had an uneasy feeling 
 that she had done the other man a wrong. An old 
 rhyme went jingling through her brain, with all the 
 irritating force of a milk-cart hurrying for a train — 
 something about the advisability of being off with 
 the old love before being on with the new. 
 
 But that was just what she had done ; she had 
 been strictly conscientious. She had written to 
 Ernest Clifton asking to be released from the 
 promise which she had made to him, and he had 
 freed her — what the young man beside said was 
 perfectly true ; she had not been a party to the 
 parole — it had been forced upon her. She had 
 not consented to it. Nothing in the world could 
 be clearer than this. 
 
 And yet the result of thinking over it all was to 
 leave her with a feeling of uneasiness in respect of 
 her own action, and of still greater uneasiness in 
 respect of his sense of honour. 
 
 " Don't think anything more about the business," 
 said he. 
 
 " I will not," she said. " I will not ; after all, 
 did not he try to trick me, and why should not I, 
 
 if I saw that — that But you — well, I have 
 
 made a confession to you at any rate, and that's 
 something, isn't it ? You are not angry ? " 
 
 " Angry — I — angry " 
 
 He was taking such action in regard to her as 
 
2 50 According to Plato 
 
 should, he thought, convince her that he was not 
 permanently embittered against her ; but she gave 
 him to understand that his word of mouth was quite 
 adequate to allay her doubts. 
 
 " Ah, no — no," she said ; and his lips had to be 
 content with the back of her hand. " I was taken 
 by surprise just now. I did vvrong, considering the 
 position in which I stood — in which I still stand." 
 
 " Good heavens ! " he cried, " haven't I proved — 
 didn't you agree with me " 
 
 " Yes, yes ; there can be no doubt about it," she 
 assented with the utmost cordiality. " Yes ; still — 
 but I see clearly what I can do. I can tell him 
 that without my father's consent it would be 
 impossible for me to — to — to be otherwise than 
 free. I will tell him that I consider myself to be 
 free — that I considered myself to be so from the 
 moment he agreed to my taking back my promise." 
 
 He could not see that anything would be gained 
 by this traffic with the other man ; but he thought 
 that she might fancy that he was giving himself the 
 airs of a lover too early in his career. Only half an 
 hour had elapsed since he had undertaken to play 
 the part, and though ambitious to make a mark in 
 the role, he thought it would be more prudent to 
 perfect himself in it by slow degrees. 
 
 Still he could not refrain from saying : 
 
 " I wouldn't bother myself much, if I were you, 
 in this business. These chaps are so clever, you 
 
According to Plato 251 
 
 never know quite where you are with them. I see 
 plainly that was how you came to engage yourself 
 to him. He told you of his hopes — you wished, out 
 of the goodness and generosity of your heart, to 
 help him on, and so — well, there you were, don't 
 you see ? " 
 
 " That was exactly how it was," she cried. 
 " You are just to me. I know now that I never 
 loved him — ah, now I know what love is ! " 
 
 " My beloved ! " 
 
 " I admired him for his courage — I admired him 
 for having got on without any one to help him — I 
 do so still ; indeed, there is a good deal that is 
 worthy of admiration about him — and respect — oh. 
 Heaven knows that I respect him ! " 
 
 The lover laughed. He knew that he had 
 nothing to fear from the other man when she began 
 to talk of respecting him. In fact, the more she 
 spoke in praise of the fellow the more confident 
 he felt in her love for himself Girls do not talk 
 in praise of the men they love. They simply 
 love them. 
 
 She went on : 
 
 " Yes ; I thought — I hoped that it might be 
 possible for me to have helped him. Perhaps I 
 felt flattered — every one about me was saying how 
 clever he was — that he was one of the coming men 
 — that was the phrase — I think I hate the sound 
 of it now. But I daresay that I felt flattered. . . . 
 
252 According to Plato 
 
 He might have chosen some other girl, you see ; 
 such men usually choose girls who are heiresses — 
 and yet he chose me — -I suppose I felt all that." 
 
 " He'll have a chance of choosing one of the 
 heiresses now," said the Real Lover grimly ; " and 
 he'll do it, you may be certain." 
 
 She did not respond to the laugh he gave. She 
 felt that it would have been in bad taste. When 
 the second husband looks at the portrait of his 
 predecessor, which still hangs over the mantelpiece, 
 and says something jocular about the size of his 
 ears, the widow of the original of the picture does 
 not usually acquiesce with a smile, even though her 
 late husband's ears were as long as Bottom's. She 
 thinks that, ears or no ears, he was once her gentle joy. 
 
 There was a note of reproof in Josephine's voice 
 as she said : 
 
 " You must do him the justice to acknowledge 
 that he was not mercenary when he asked me to 
 give him my promise. We must do Mr. Clifton 
 justice.'' 
 
 The Real Lover was better pleased than ever. 
 He had almost reached the chuckling point in the 
 condition of being pleased. When a girl talks 
 about her desire to be strictly just toward a man, 
 she (Mr. Winwood felt assured) has no remnant of 
 affection for that man. The moment a girl becomes 
 just toward a man she ceases to have any affection 
 for him. There is some chance for a man 
 
According to Plato 253 
 
 (Winwood knew) so long as a girl is capable of 
 treating him unjustly. The assumption of the 
 judicial attitude on the part of a girl means that 
 the little god Cupid has had the bandage snatched 
 from his eyes, and Cupid with his eyes open might, 
 if provided with a jacket covered with buttons, pass 
 for the boy at your dentist's door. 
 
 The Real Lover being, by virtue of his loverhood, 
 strictly dishonourable, encouraged her to be just to 
 the other. 
 
 " Yes," he said gravely ; " I should be sorry to 
 think that he is otherwise than a good kind of chap 
 — for a professor of politics. But there are heiresses 
 and heiresses. Money is a very minor inheritance. 
 I am quite ready to believe as you did, that he had 
 a real, that is to say, a — an honest — he may have 
 fancied it was honest — feeling that you — yes, that 
 you could advance his interests. Oh, I don't say 
 that these clever chaps are indifferent to beauty and 
 grace, and the soul of a woman as the means of 
 advancing their own ends. I daresay that he had 
 a notion that you — but he'll certainly have a look 
 in where there are heiresses now." 
 
 "You are grossly unjust — you are grossly un- 
 generous — and I am deeply hurt," said she. 
 
 " That makes me love you all the more," he cried. 
 " For every word you say in his favour I will love 
 you an extra thousand years." 
 
 He knew that if he could only stimulate her to 
 
2 54 According to Plato 
 
 talk still more generously about Mr. Clifton he 
 would soon get her to feel that she had not been 
 guilty of the breach of honour with which she was 
 still inclined to reproach herself It was just like 
 a woman, he thought, to place so much importance 
 upon a little flaw in the etiquette of being off with 
 the old love and on with the new. He loved her 
 the more for her femininity, and he thought that 
 he might lead her on to feel that she had actually 
 been generous in respect of the other. 
 
 " I will not have a word said against Mr. Clifton," 
 she said firmly. 
 
 And she did not hear a word said against him, 
 though she had so earnestly encouraged him to say 
 such a word ; but the fact was that the dinner-hour 
 of the prosaic harvesters had come to an end, and 
 the reaping machine, with the patent binding attach- 
 ment, began to work under their eyes, and a girl 
 cannot speak well even of the man she has just 
 thrown over, when so interesting a machine is at 
 hand. 
 
 The two stood spellbound watching that beautiful 
 thing of blue picked out with red, as it went 
 mightily on its way down the wall of standing 
 grain, stretching out its pendulous arms with a 
 rhythmic regularity that a poet might have envied, 
 lifting the material for a sheaf and laying it along 
 with more than the tenderness of a mother for her 
 child, laying it in its cot. 
 
According to Plato 255 
 
 How much more picturesque — how much more 
 stimulating to the imagination was not this 
 marvellous creature — this granivorous reanimated 
 thing of the early world, than the squalid, shrill- 
 voiced, beer-exhaling reapers of the fields in the 
 days gone by ! This was the boldly expressed 
 opinion of both the watchers, though each of them 
 had a good word to say for the cycle of the sickle. 
 
 " The sickle was the lyric of the wheat fields, the 
 reaping machine is the epic," said Josephine, with 
 a laugh at her attempt to satisfy an exacting 
 recollection of a picture of Ruth, the Moabitess, with 
 her sickle in a field flooded with moonlight, as 
 well as an inexorable sense of what is due to the 
 modern inventor. 
 
 " My dearest," said he, " I know now that you 
 are happy. Are you happy, my dearest ? " 
 
 " Ah, happy, happy, happy ! " she whispered, 
 when their faces were only an inch or two apart. 
 
 They watched the wood-pigeons circling, and 
 dipping with the exceeding delicacy of cherubic 
 wings, until they dropped upon the surface of the 
 freshly cleared space. They breathed the warm 
 fragrance of the sun-saturated air, with now and 
 again a whiff of the wild thyme that caused them 
 to hear through the whir of the machinery the faint 
 strain of a Shakesperian lyric floating above the 
 oxlips and nodding violets of that bank beside 
 them ; and of the sweet-briar that was somewhere, 
 
256 According to Plato 
 
 loved of the wild bee. The sulphur butterflies went 
 through their dances in the air, and more than one 
 velvety butterfly in brown — a floating pansy — 
 swung on the poppies of the path. 
 
 " You are happy ? " he said again. 
 
 " Happy — happy, happy ! " she repeated. 
 
 Happiness was in her face — on her parted lips — 
 in her half-closed eyes — in the smile of the maiden 
 who loves, she knows not why and she cares 
 not whom. 
 
 ***** 
 
 She was not quite so happy when she had 
 returned to her home two hours later, and her 
 father met her saying : 
 
 " My dearest child, Ernest Clifton has been with 
 me, and he has persuaded me. Josephine, my 
 child, I think of your happiness more than any 
 earthly consideration. I have given my consent 
 to your engagement. Kiss me, my Josephine." 
 
CHAPTER XXV 
 
 TIT" HAT could she say? What could she 
 ' *^ do on hearing this sentence pronounced 
 by her father? 
 
 He had impressed upon her the kiss of a father. 
 It lay on her forehead and she could feel it there 
 like the seal on a contract. It was this formality 
 that made her feel there was nothing to be said 
 or done further in the matter. When once a 
 contract is sealed no one can do anything. Protest 
 is useless. Submission is taken for granted. 
 
 But to come up fresh from the glory of that 
 wheat field — every ear of grain seemed a unit in 
 the sum of the love which was alive in that field — 
 to come up to town by the side of the man whom 
 she knew that she loved — his hand touching hers 
 now and again — his eyes evermore drawing her 
 own to meet them and to mix with them — his 
 voice still in her heart — to leave him feeling certain 
 of him — certain of the future, and then to hear 
 her father speak that sentence and to feel that 
 cold wax kiss on her forehead — oh, the thought 
 of it all was suffocating. 
 What could she say ? 
 
 257 17 
 
258 According to Plato 
 
 How could she tell her father at that moment 
 that, two hours ago, she had found out that she 
 loved, not the man who had by some mysterious 
 means won her father's consent to her name being 
 united with his, but quite another man — a man 
 whom her father had only seen twice, and who 
 had been seen by herself not more than half a 
 dozen times, and all within a period of a few weeks ? 
 
 The surprise was too much for her. The mystery 
 of it all overcame her. She could only stare at 
 her father, while he held her hand and talked to 
 her in a paternal, parliamentary way, patting the 
 back of her fingers very gently. 
 
 She felt that his words were in good taste and 
 well chosen. She knew that they could never be 
 otherwise. But how could they ever come to be 
 uttered ? That was the question which was humming 
 through her poor head all the while he was assuring 
 her that, though perhaps he once had other views 
 in his mind in respect of securing her happiness 
 — other ambitions in regard to her future, still he 
 was content to waive all, in order that she might 
 marry the man of her choice. 
 
 " Clifton has been perfectly frank with me, my 
 dear," he said. " Oh, yes, he confessed to me that 
 you and he had an understanding early last autumn 
 that if my consent could be obtained he might 
 count on you. I cannot say that I approve of 
 such secret understandings between young people ; 
 
According to Plato 259 
 
 an exchange of confidences of this type is almost 
 equivalent to a secret engagement, is it not? But 
 he told me how sensitive you were on this point 
 and how scrupulous you were — I know that he 
 admires you more than ever on account of your 
 scruples — every right-thinking man, lover or other- 
 wise, must do so. He, too, had his scruples — they 
 do him honour also. He was sensible, fully sensible, 
 of the fact that we had every right to look higher 
 — much higher — for our daughter than our daughter 
 herself thought fit to look. Of course, my position 
 in the Government — well, some people have been 
 flattering enough to say that I may expect a 
 place in the Cabinet when the next change takes 
 place, and, between ourselves, I think a change 
 is imminent. Never mind that. I know that 
 Clifton is a rising man ; he has been a power in 
 our camp for several years past, and his advice is 
 esteemed in — I have reason to know — the highest — 
 the very highest, quarters. In fact, if he had not 
 made himself so very useful as to become almost 
 indispensable, he would long ago have been provided 
 with a seat and a post. He is by no means at 
 the foot of the ladder. He is a man who has made 
 a successful fight against the most adverse influences 
 — he knows his own strength — he still knows it — 
 he does not fritter away his chances, taking up 
 one thing and then dropping it for another. Men 
 of his stamp are the men to succeed. Your future, 
 
26o According to Plato 
 
 my child, is, I know, safe in his keeping — oh, quite 
 safe. You have shown your wisdom in your choice. 
 God bless you, my dear, God bless you ! " 
 
 The paternal kiss was this time impressed upon 
 her forehead with a paternal smile, and she could 
 say nothing. The futility of saying anything was 
 impressed upon her with each of the two paternal 
 kisses. The next moment she was left alone, and 
 her sole thought was that he had spoken so 
 convincingly as to leave no opening for any one 
 to say a single word. 
 
 And yet, only two hours before, she had been 
 kissed on the cheeks and on the hair by Pierce 
 Winwood. 
 
 The result of her father's words was to make 
 her feel far more deeply than she had yet felt, 
 that she had been guilty of something dreadful 
 in the way of double-dealing when she had allowed 
 Pierce Winwood to kiss her — even if she had 
 allowed him to kiss only one of her hands she 
 would have been guilty (she now felt) of something 
 almost shocking. Breathing, as she now did, in 
 the centre of the paternal halo of her father's phrases, 
 she could not but feel shocked as she reflected 
 upon her frankness in confessing (in the breathing 
 spaces between his kisses) her love for Pierce 
 Winwood ; and before she met her mother she 
 was actually thinking what reparation she could 
 make to her parents for her shocking conduct. 
 
According to Plato 261 
 
 Would an attitude of complete submission to their 
 wishes be sufficient, she asked herself. 
 
 She came to the conclusion that it would not 
 be an excessive atonement to make for so terrible 
 a lapse from the conduct which was expected from 
 her. It certainly would not ; for her father had 
 given her to understand that he had only been 
 induced to grant his consent to her engagement 
 to Ernest Clifton, because it was clearly her dearest 
 hope to get his consent to that engagement. How 
 absurd then was her thought that there was any 
 atonement in an attitude of submission to a fate 
 which her parents had the best reasons for believing 
 she most ardently sought ! 
 
 And then she had to face her mother. 
 
 The maternal halo which her mother welded to 
 that of her father formed a most appropriate decora- 
 tion, any connoisseur of phrases would have admitted. 
 It was mat-gilt with a burnished bit of repousse here 
 and there along the border. But the double halo, 
 though decorative enough, was too heavy for 
 Josephine's head, and its weight oppressed her. 
 
 Her mother was a charming woman. She had 
 not reached that period of humiliation in the life 
 of a woman of the world when she hears people 
 say that she is a charming woman still. No one 
 ever thought of saying that she was a charm- 
 ing woman still. Growing old has gone out, 
 for it has become acknowledged that the custom 
 
262 According to Plato 
 
 of a woman's doing her best to look hideous with 
 caps and cc nbs and things when she gets married, 
 is allied to the suttee ; and Lady Gwendolen West 
 — she was the fifth daughter of the late Earl of 
 Innisfallen, in the peerage of Ireland — was one 
 of the leaders of modern intelligence who had made 
 this discovery in the science of comparative super- 
 stition. By the aid of the confidential masseuse 
 and an hour's sleep before lunch and dinner every 
 day of her life, she remained worldly at forty-six. 
 
 She kissed her daughter with a subtle discrimi- 
 nation of what her daughter expected of her and 
 gave her her blessing. 
 
 " You are a wicked child," was the opening bar 
 of the maternal benediction. " How wicked you 
 have been ! — absolutely naughty ; you know you 
 cannot deny it, you sweet thing ! And you make 
 me look a hundred, you know, especially when I 
 have anything of mauve about me. Thank Heaven 
 I am not as other women who make up with 
 that absurd mauve complexion and think that it 
 deceives any one. What would you think of your 
 mother, Joe, if she made up like those poor things 
 one meets even at the best houses, though I do 
 think that you might have let me into your con- 
 fidence, Joe — I do really ? You know that I should 
 have been delighted to take your part against your 
 father any day. I see you looking at my new 
 toque, but if you say that the pink and crimson 
 
According to Plato 263 
 
 poppies do not look well among the corn ears, I'll 
 have nothing more to do with you or your affairs. 
 Now what on earth are you staring at, Joe ? Isn't 
 
 it quite natural for corn and poppies " 
 
 " It's wheat — wheat," said Josephine, and still 
 she kept her eyes fixed upon the head-dress of 
 her mother. 
 
 (" Only two hours ago — only two hours ago ! ") 
 " And Where's the difference between wheat and 
 corn, you little quibbler ? " laughed Lady Gwen. 
 " You didn't know that I had ordered the toque 
 from Madame Sophy. I kept it a secret from you 
 in order to surprise you. But it hasn't surprised 
 you after all. Now what was I saying d, propos of 
 secrets just now ? — something about — of course, 
 I knew that we had been talking of secrets. You 
 were very naughty, you sly puss, and you don't 
 deserve to be forgiven ; but Mr. Clifton — I suppose 
 I must call him Ernest now — how funny it will 
 be ! — he's one of the most coming men — he's awfully 
 coming. Your father agreed with surprising ease. 
 I expect that some one turned him against the 
 notion that he had that Lord Lullworth would 
 have suited you. Lord LuUy is no fool, as I happen 
 to know ; so perhaps things are just as well as they 
 are, though I know your father thought that, with 
 you married to the son of the minister, he was 
 pretty sure of getting into the Cabinet. I met 
 Lord Lully only yesterday and he asked me how 
 
264 According to Plato 
 
 it had never occurred to some of the men who 
 do the caricatures in the papers to draw the Earl 
 in the character of a job-master. Funny, wasn't 
 it ? A bit disrespectful of course ; but then every- 
 body knows that the Earl has done very well for 
 all his relations and his relations' relations. Good 
 heavens, is that five o'clock striking? Hurry 
 upstairs and get Madeline to put you into another 
 dress. We are going to the Glastonburys' reception 
 in Hyde Park Gate. The Green Scandinavians 
 are to be there. Make haste. We have two other 
 places of call." 
 
 What was she to say to such a mother? How 
 could she hope for sympathy from such a source ? 
 How could she tell Lady Gwendolen that she 
 had changed her mind — that she loved, not Ernest 
 Clifton but Pierce Winwood ? 
 
 That was the terrible part of this greeting of her 
 parents : they took everything for granted ; they 
 assumed that her dearest wish was to obtain their 
 consent to be engaged to Mr. Clifton, though if 
 they expected her to be exuberant in her gratitude 
 to them for their complaisance, they must have felt 
 disappointed. She had been deadly cold while 
 her father had spoken to her, and she had not 
 warmed in the least under the influence of her 
 mother's chatter. Was this the way in which 
 girls, as a rule, deport themselves when the happiest 
 hour of their life has come ? 
 
According to Plato 265 
 
 " I am not going out this afternoon," she said, 
 when her mother had turned to a mirror to pinch 
 some fancied improvement in the poppies that flared 
 over her toque. 
 
 " What nonsense are you talking ! " cried Lady 
 Gwen, pinching away. " What nonsense ! These 
 things should be bordered with wire ; they fall out 
 of shape in a day. Is that an improvement ? " 
 
 She faced her daughter, and Joe said : 
 
 " I somehow think it was best lying flat. No ; 
 I'm not going out this afternoon. I am deadly 
 tired." 
 
 " You do look a bit tired," said the mother, 
 with a critical poise of the inverted flower-basket 
 on her head. Then, as if a sudden thought had 
 struck her, she added, while Josephine was going 
 to the door : " Don't you run away with the notion 
 that he is likely to drop in this afternoon upon 
 you. The chances are that he will be at the 
 Glastonburys', so your best chance will be to come 
 with me." 
 
 " I have no wish to see anybody this evening — 
 least of all Mr. Clifton. I'm only tired to death," 
 said Josephine. 
 
 Her mother's laugh followed her to the staircase. 
 
CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 JOSEPHINE threw herself upon the sofa in her 
 boudoir and tried to face the situation which 
 presented itself to her. She tried to think what 
 she could do to escape from the toils which had 
 been woven round her — woven with the appropriate 
 phrases that went to the declaring of a father's 
 blessing, and the frivolous inconsequence of a 
 mother's acquiescence. 
 
 She felt for a moment as if she were a prisoner 
 in a strong room, with bars across the windows and 
 bolts upon the door. She looked, as an imprisoned 
 girl might, first to the door, then to the windows, 
 as if she had a hope that, by some accidental neglect 
 of precaution on the part of her gaoler, a chance 
 might be left for her of escape one way or another. 
 
 Then she threw back her head and stared at the 
 ceiling. She felt that she had no chance. The 
 door had its bolts drawn and not one of the 
 bars across the window was defective. She was a 
 prisoner without means of escape. 
 
 Facing such cleverness as that which Ernest 
 Clifton had shown her he had at his command, she 
 felt hopeless. A fortnight ago he had given her to 
 
 266 
 
According to Plato 267 
 
 understand that he considered it beyond the bounds 
 of possibility that he should obtain the consent of 
 her father to their engagement — he had certainly 
 had no hope of winning her father's consent, for if 
 he had had such a hope, he would only have required 
 to tell her so when she had met him at that garden 
 party and had asked him to free her from her 
 promise made to him in the autumn. Yes, all he 
 had need to say was this : 
 
 " I am going to run the chance of getting your 
 father's consent, and if I am not successful we can 
 then talk as you are talking, of throwing over 
 our compact." 
 
 That was all he had need to say if he had had 
 any expectation of winning over her father ; but he 
 had said nothing of the sort ; and yet he had, by his 
 own cleverness — by some mystery of adroitness of 
 which she was ignorant — by some strange trick — 
 she was sure that it was a trick, though she knew 
 nothing about it — gained the acquiescence of her 
 father in their compact, and his cheerful forgiveness 
 for the deception of the past. 
 
 What could she do in the face of such cleverness 
 as this ? How could she hope to combat it ? 
 Would it not be ridiculous for such a girl as she 
 to strive against such a man as he ? Would it not 
 be better for her to submit to the inevitable with 
 good grace? 
 
 But had she not already submitted to it ? She 
 
268 According to Plato 
 
 had been dumb in the presence of her father, so 
 overwhelmed was she with surprise at the first 
 words of the announcement of his forgiveness, and 
 she had thus given him to understand that she was 
 extremely grateful — grateful to a point of complete 
 extinction of the power of expressing her gratitude 
 — to him for his more than fatherly appreciation of 
 her dearest hopes. And as for her mother — she 
 had allowed her mother to go so far as to suggest 
 that she was pretending to be tired in order to be 
 at home if her lover — her lover ! — were to call. 
 
 Well, she had made a fool of herself — so much 
 was certain. That secret engagement was an act 
 of folly which had to be paid for. It seemed as if 
 no power was strong enough to show her how she 
 could evade the supreme penalty which that act 
 carried with it. Yes, she had undoubtedly made 
 a fool of herself 
 
 And then the thought came to her that she had 
 not only made a fool of herself, she had also made 
 a fool of Pierce Winwood. Thi3 reflection was too 
 much for her. She turned her face to a pillow and 
 wept silently into its depths. 
 
 This was the second time she had been moved 
 to tears since the morning, and it was the memory 
 of the incident of her first tears that caused her to 
 weep the more piteously now. By a strange incon- 
 sistency it was this same memory that caused her 
 to leap" to her feet after an interval of silent sobbing. 
 
According to Plato 269 
 
 and to toss away her second handkerchief just as 
 she had done her first, and then to strike the palms 
 of her hands together, crying aloud : 
 
 " I will face them all — I will face them all. I am 
 not afraid of any of them. I know my own mind 
 now — now ! I don't care whether I behaved honour- 
 ably or basely or idiotically. I love one man, and 
 that man I mean to marry. That's enough for me." 
 
 It was in this spirit that she sat down in front 
 of her escritoire and flung the ink upon a sheet of 
 paper to the effect that if Dear Mr. Clifton would 
 have the kindness to pay her a visit on the following 
 afternoon she would be glad. She thumped the 
 scrawl when face downward on the blotter, as good- 
 natured people thump the back of a child who has 
 swallowed a fish bone. It was a great satisfaction 
 to her to pound away at it, and when she picked it 
 up she saw that the blotting-paper, which had been 
 spotless before, was now black. The face of the 
 letter was also smudged, the absorbent not having 
 been rapid enough in its action. But she knew 
 that not only would the lines be deciphered by the 
 man to whom they were addressed, he would also 
 be led to understand something of the mood she 
 was in when she had made that cavalry charge 
 upon the paper, using her broadest quill as a lance. 
 
 She gave a sigh of relief when she saw the 
 envelope with the letter inside, lying on the table 
 beside her ; and then she wrote the date on another 
 
270 According to Plato 
 
 sheet of paper. The second letter, however, seemed 
 to require more careful composition than the first. 
 She sat looking wistfully at the blank paper for 
 more than hali an hour, without making sufficient 
 progress to write the name of the one whom the 
 post office authorities call the addressee. She leant 
 back in her chair and bit at the feather end of 
 the pen for a long time. At last she tore up the 
 sheet of paper and dropped the fragments with 
 great tenderness into the Dresden vase that stood 
 on a carved bracket on the wall. 
 
 " I will not spoil his day," she said pathetically. 
 " I may have a good deal more to tell him by this 
 time to-morrow. But I am not afraid to face 
 anything that may come to pass. I know my own 
 mind now — now." 
 
 Her maid came to inquire if she was at home, 
 and if she would have tea in her boudoir or in 
 one of the drawing-rooms. She replied that she 
 was not at home, and that she would like her tea 
 brought to her at once. 
 
 This was done, and she found herself greatly 
 refreshed, and able to enjoy an hour's sleep before 
 dinner, and to hear, during that meal, her mother's 
 account of the two entertainments at which she 
 had assisted, with a detailed description of some 
 of the most innocuous of the dresses worn by the 
 heroines of the lady correspondents' columns. A 
 word or two which Lady Gwendolen threw in on the 
 
According to Plato 271 
 
 less interesting subject of the men who had walked 
 through the garden of the Hyde Park Gate house, 
 with the usual mournfulness of men among five 
 o'clock ices and angel-cakes, failed to move Josephine. 
 " You should have been there, Joe," said the 
 mother when the servants had left the dining-room, 
 and the scent of fresh-peeled peaches was in the 
 air. " I told you that it was quite unlikely that 
 your Ernest would call to-day, so you had your 
 waiting at home for nothing. Amber was there 
 wearing that ancient thing with the little sprigs 
 of violets — she must have that since May — but I 
 think the hat was new — do you know it? — a 
 fearfully broad thing of white straw with a droop 
 on both sides, and two ostrich feathers lying flat, 
 one falling over the brim and coiling underneath, 
 and who is the latest victim to her theories of 
 training, do you think ? Why, Lord Lully himself 
 She had ices with him, and held on to him with 
 grim determination for half an hour, though he 
 told me last week that he would be there, and I 
 saw that he was struggling hard to get away from 
 her, poor boy ! But if she fancies that Lord Lully 
 is such a fool as the rest of them, she is going a 
 little too far. I happen to know that he has his 
 eyes open just as wide as his father could wish. 
 Amber will make nothing of him, take my word 
 for it. Theories ! Experiments ! Fiddlestrings and 
 fiddlesticks ! And his mother was quite civil to 
 
2 72 According to Plato 
 
 her, too — almost gracious, only that we know that 
 she never is so except for three weeks during a 
 general election, and she takes it out of her home 
 circle when it's all over and she need be civil no 
 longer. I hope your father will get into the Cabinet 
 and so relieve me from the general election smile. 
 I smiled him through three general elections, but 
 I decline to face a fourth. Why should an under- 
 secretary's wife be supposed to make a Cheshire 
 Cat of herself when the wife of a Cabinet Minister 
 need only be civil ? " 
 
 This and several other social problems were 
 formulated by Lady Gwendolen for the considera- 
 tion of her daughter while they ate their peaches ; 
 and then they had an interval to themselves before 
 dressing for a very small dance at a very great 
 house, following an Official Reception, 
 
 An Official Reception means a scuffle in a hall, 
 a scramble on a staircase, and a scamper past a 
 whiff of scent. 
 
 Josephine danced eleven dances at the small 
 dance, and would have gone on to the fifteenth, only 
 that she had the responsibility of chaperoning her 
 mother. She knew that her mother could not stand 
 late hours, so she took her home (reluctantly) at two. 
 * * * » * 
 
 At four o'clock the following afternoon, Ernest 
 Clifton made his call, and Josephine received 
 him alone. 
 
According to Plato 273 
 
 " At last — at last ! " he cried in a very creditable 
 imitation of the lover's exultation, when they were 
 alone. He had approached her with outstretched 
 hands. His voice was tremulous. 
 
 She did not allow him to put even one arm 
 around her. He was showing an aspiration in 
 regard to the employment of both. 
 
 " I wrote to you to come here to-day in order 
 
 to tell you that — that " she paused. She did 
 
 not know what she had to tell him. Was it that 
 she considered that he had tricked her into an 
 acceptance of the terms on which he had granted 
 her petition for liberty ? Was it that she had merely 
 changed her mind in regard to him ? "I wish 
 to tell you that — that you must have misunderstood 
 — I cannot tell how — the effect of the letter which 
 I wrote to you — of the explanation I made to 
 you the last time we met." 
 
 " Good heavens ! What can you possibly mean, 
 my Josephine ? " said he in a maelstrom of astonish- 
 ment ; but she thought she could detect an artificial 
 gesture for all the swirl ; the whirlpool was a 
 machine-made one. " Good heavens ! where was 
 the possibility of a mistake ? " 
 
 " I don't know," she replied. " I meant to be 
 clear enough. I told you that I wanted to be freed 
 from the consequences of our engagement ; you 
 freed me, and yet a few days later you go to my 
 father and tell him that all we want is his sanction 
 
 18 
 
2 74 According to Plato 
 
 for our engagement — our engagement that was 
 annulled some time before." 
 
 " What ! " he cried ; " can you forget that the only 
 reason you put forward for wishing to be free — 
 nominally free — was that you felt uneasy at the 
 secrecy of our engagement? You said you felt as 
 if you were guilty of double-dealing because your 
 father had not given his consent — -you said all this, 
 my dearest, the last time we met, and your saying 
 so — your feeling so — filled me with remorse, — the 
 deepest remorse — the intensest self-reproach. I had 
 caused you to suffer, and what more natural than 
 that I should make the attempt at the earliest possible 
 moment to atone for what I had done — to remove the 
 one cause of your suffering? I made up my mind 
 that I would risk all to save you from further self- 
 reproach. I took my life in my hand, so to speak — 
 I risked all on a simple cast for your sake — I went to 
 your father . . . Well, by giving his consent he with- 
 drew the cause — the very reasonable cause, I admit, 
 of your — your uneasiness. Surely you remember ? " 
 
 " I remember everything,'' she said. " I asked 
 you to free me — to release me from the promise I 
 had made to you, and you released me." 
 
 " You place too great emphasis on my simple 
 act," said he. " What man worthy of the name of 
 man would have been less generous than I was? 
 Could I forget that you had suffered on my account? 
 Oh, my Josephine, I could not but release you from 
 
According to Plato 275 
 
 your promise — your promise of secrecy. But I 
 trusted you — I knew I could trust you." 
 
 She perceived in a moment the position in which 
 he meant to place her. 
 
 " But it was not from my promise of secrecy that 
 I begged you to free me," she said ; " it was from 
 my engagement — I wished to be free altogether, 
 and you agreed. I was free when we parted. I 
 did not consider myself bound to you in any way." 
 
 " What ? Ah, my dear Josephine, you are some- 
 thing of a sophist. Just think for a moment and 
 you will see how impossible it was for me to accept 
 what you said in the sense in which you now say 
 you meant it. You told me that the one reason — 
 the sole reason you had for writing to me as you 
 wrote, and for appealing to me as you did, was the 
 fact that the secrecy — the secret — the secret that 
 you shared with me, was preying on your mind. 
 Well, that sole reason is now removed, therefore — 
 oh, the thing is simplicity itself." 
 
 "That is perfectly plausible," said she after a 
 long interval. She saw without difficulty that he 
 had logic and reason on his side. That made her 
 feel a greater antipathy to him than she had yet felt. 
 A woman hates the man who has proved himself 
 to be in the right. " Yes, it is perfectly plausible, 
 but you did not tell me that you intended coming 
 to my father." 
 
 " And you did not know enough of my character 
 
276 According to Plato 
 
 to be assured that the first step I should take after 
 hearing from your lips that the fact of our engage- 
 ment being kept from him was causing you pain, 
 would be to go to your father ? " 
 
 There was more than a suggestion of reproach 
 in his voice : there was pain. 
 
 " I did not know enough of your character," she 
 said. " And so I considered myself free — altogether 
 free. No engagement existed between us when 
 we parted last." 
 
 " Although my last words to you were that I 
 knew I could trust you? Mutual trust? Did not 
 those words suggest to you that you had not made 
 your meaning plain to me — that I at least had no 
 feeling that our engagement was at an end ? " 
 
 " I felt that — that you were setting me free with 
 one phrase and trying to bind me faster than before 
 with another phrase," she replied. 
 
 " But you made no protest. You tacitly admitted 
 that I was entitled to accept your meaning as I did." 
 
 " You did not give me a chance. You turned away 
 to speak to some one who came up at that moment." 
 
 " What would you have said to me if you had 
 had the chance ? " he asked her slowly. 
 
 She hesitated. 
 
 " Oh, do not trouble yourself thinking for an 
 answer," he cried. " What is the good of discussing 
 in this way ? the — diplomatists call it the status quo 
 ante. Such a discussion is quite profitless. Even 
 
According to Plato 277 
 
 if we were not engaged then we are now. The 
 obstacle has been removed." 
 
 She felt overcome by the plausibility of it all, 
 just as she had felt overcome in the presence of her 
 father by a sense of the inevitable. It was not 
 surprising that he accepted the long pause on her 
 part as indicating complete surrender to his reason- 
 ing. He went toward her with a smile and out- 
 stretched hands. 
 
 " Do not come to me : I love another man and 
 I mean to marry him. I shall never marry you," 
 she said quietly. 
 
CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 C*0 she had abandoned the untenable position of 
 ^^ reason, and had withdrawn to the cover of a 
 statement of complete femininity. She gave a 
 sigh of relief ; she knew where she was now. She 
 was on firm ground. 
 
 " I am afraid, Josephine," said he with the utmost 
 calmness, " that you have been too late in coming 
 to this determination. You cannot be so flagrantly 
 inconsistent." 
 
 " I know nothing about consistency or incon- 
 sistency ; I love another man, and all the arguments 
 in the world will not prevent my loving him." 
 
 She knew where she stood now. Her position 
 was impregnable. 
 
 " You say that you broke ofT your engagement 
 
 with me. Why ? Because I had not got your 
 
 father's consent. Well, if the absence of your 
 
 father's consent was a legitimate reason for our 
 
 engagement coming to an end, it is certainly a 
 
 reason for your refraining from entering into an 
 
 engagement with another man, for your father 
 
 cannot give his consent to two men at the same 
 
 time. You see that you cannot possibly — as 
 
 278 
 
According to Plato 279 
 
 you are showing — be engaged to any one but 
 myself." 
 
 " I told you I care nothing for consistency — or 
 reason — or logic — or — or — -you. I love another 
 man — I love another man." 
 
 " I am sorry for you, dear Josephine. But if you 
 do not care anything for consistency and me, I care 
 for consistency and you far too much to relinquish 
 either. If you can show me that there has ever 
 been a breach in our engagement, I might be led 
 to consider the situation from another standpoint. 
 Look at me and tell me that you understood clearly 
 when we parted last that you were free — that there 
 was no uneasy feeling in your mind that you were 
 still bound to me. . . . You see you cannot. You 
 are silent. Yes, my dearest, there was a bond 
 between us when we separated, and you and I are 
 engaged now, as we have been for several months, 
 and your father and mother take exactly the same 
 view of our position, and are good enough to sanction 
 it. That is enough for me ; it should be enough 
 for you. I decline to take any other view of the 
 matter. You have admitted tacitly that I never 
 released you. I decline to release you now. Of 
 course you will accept the situation. Think over 
 it and you will find that no alternative remains. 
 Good-bye, my dear — for the present." 
 
 He did not ask her to give him her hand, but 
 simply moved, smiling, to the door, with a wave of 
 
28o According to Plato 
 
 his own hand that somehow produced upon her 
 the effect of shaking hands with her — at any rate 
 that graceful gesture rendered a parting salute un- 
 necessary without the slightest suggestion of a 
 breach of courtesy. 
 
 He was gone, and he had got the better of her — 
 that was her first impression when he had closed the 
 door — very gently — behind him. He had been too 
 clever for her. She knew long ago that it would be 
 ridiculous for her to hope to get the better of him. 
 
 And the worst of it was that he was altogether 
 in the right. He was hopelessly in the right. She 
 had treated him badly. She had behaved dis- 
 honestly, whatever Pierce Winwood might say by 
 way of exculpating her. She had parted from 
 Ernest Clifton feeling — she could not deny it face 
 to face with him— bound to him, and she could not 
 but acknowledge that until she had a complete 
 understanding with him, she had no right to listen 
 to a word of love from another man. 
 
 She had behaved basely — there could be no doubt 
 about that, and the only excuse — and she knew that 
 it was no excuse — that she could make for herself 
 was that Pierce Winwood had come upon her so 
 suddenly, so unexpectedly, that she had no chance 
 of giving due consideration to the question as to 
 whether or not she would be justified in listening 
 to him. The idea of her pausing at such a moment 
 to determine whether or not Pierce Winwood had 
 
According to Plato 281 
 
 what lawyers term a locus standi in the suit, did not 
 strike her as being at all funny. She felt that she 
 should have adopted something of a judicial attitude 
 in regard to Pierce. She could not understand how 
 it was that she had had that moment of recklessness 
 — that moment of recklessness which remains a 
 mystery to so many women. 
 
 And the result of all this after-consideration of the 
 matter was to convince her that she had been des- 
 perately in the wrong — deceiving every one around 
 her, and trying to deceive herself also from the very 
 first ; for, knowing the impression that Pierce had 
 produced on her upon the occasion of their first 
 meeting at Ranelagh, she had not refused to meet 
 him again as she should have done. She had told 
 Amber that she hated him, but she knew perfectly 
 well that why she hated him was because he had 
 compelled her to love him. It was not he whom 
 she hated, but only the idea of acting dishonour- 
 ably in regard to the man whom she had promised 
 to marry. 
 
 Oh, she knew all along but too well that she 
 loved him from the first, and yet she had not — 
 after the first week — taken the least trouble to keep 
 apart from him, the result being the feeling of 
 humiliation that now had taken possession of her, 
 the feeling that she had been so dreadfully in the 
 wrong that nothing remained for her but to plunge 
 still deeper into the depths of wickedness by 
 
282 According to Plato 
 
 agreeing to marry the man whom she did not 
 love, and to throw over the man whom she did love. 
 
 She felt that Ernest Clifton had spoken the truth. 
 No alternative remained to her. She had agreed 
 with her eyes open, to marry him, and she was 
 quite unable to give any reason that would be 
 considered satisfactory by her father for declining 
 to marry him. 
 
 After an hour or two she actually became resigned 
 to the idea. After all, what did it matter ? She 
 had got into the frame of mind of the one who 
 asks this question — the frame of mind of the 
 French philosopher on the guillotine, who rolled 
 his cigarette, saj'irig : " What does it matter ? only 
 one man the less." 
 
 What did it matter whom she married? The 
 general scheme of the universe would not be inter- 
 fered with because she was about to do the thing 
 that was most abhorrent to her of all acts done by 
 women — this act being, by the way, the one which 
 she was most earnest to do only six months before ! 
 
 She was able, without the shedding of a tear, 
 to sit down to her escritoire and write a letter to 
 Pierce, letting him know the determination to which 
 she had come, and admitting to him that she had 
 behaved basely — cruelly — inconsiderately. She had 
 been bound to Mr. Clifton — and she knew it — at 
 the very moment when she had acknowledged to 
 the man to whom she was writing, that she loved 
 
According to Plato 283 
 
 him. She admitted how culpably weak she had 
 been — and still was, but she thought that she was 
 strong enough to see that the best way — the only 
 way — of sparing the one who was dearest to her, 
 much misery — the only way of escaping from a 
 hopeless position was by submitting to Fate. If 
 he would think over the matter he would, she 
 was sure, see that she was right, and thinking over 
 it all, he could not but be thankful that he was 
 saved from a wretched woman who did not know 
 her own mind two days together and who had no 
 sense of honour or truth or fidelity. 
 
 That was the substance of the letter which she 
 felt great satisfaction in writing to Pierce Winwood ; 
 and she sincerely believed that she was all that 
 she announced herself to be. Though she would 
 have been terribly disappointed if she had thought 
 that she would succeed in convincing him tliat she 
 was unworthy to be loved by him. 
 
 She felt greatly relieved on writing this letter 
 embodying, as it did, so frank a confession of her 
 weakness and — incidentally — of her womanliness, 
 and she was able to dance nine dances and to 
 partake of a very recherchi^ supper in the course 
 of the night. She felt that she had become 
 thoroughly worldly, taking a pleasure in the whirl 
 and the glow and the glitter of all. There was 
 no chance of her being led to think about what 
 lay heavy on her heart while she was giving herself 
 
284 According to Plato 
 
 up to this form of intoxication. Every dance had 
 the effect of a dram of green Chartreuse upon her, 
 and the result of her night's festivity was to make 
 her feel, she thought, that the world was very 
 well adapted as a place of residence for men and 
 women ; and as for the worldliness — well, worldliness 
 was one of the pleasantest elements in the world 
 of men and women. 
 
 Having come to so satisfactory a conclusion, it 
 was somewhat remarkable, she thought, that, on 
 finding her father drinking his glass of ApoUinaris 
 in his study — he had just returned from the House 
 — she should go straight up to him, after shutting 
 the door, and say : 
 
 " I wish to tell you that I do not intend to 
 marry Ernest Clifton, because I love quite another 
 man." 
 
 He looked at her curiously for a few moments, 
 then he said, laying down his tumbler : 
 
 " What stuff is this ? Is it not true that you 
 agreed to listen to Clifton six months ago? 
 Heaven's above us ! Another man — quite another 
 man ! Have you been making a fool of Clifton, 
 and — and yourself, and do you now think to 
 make a fool of me ? " 
 
 " I am ready to admit everything," she cried 
 plaintively. " I have been a fool, I know. I have 
 behaved badly — with no sense of honour — basely 
 — basely — but I am wretched and I will not 
 
According to Plato 285 
 
 marry Ernest Clifton — oh, nothing will force me 
 to marry him." 
 
 " Poor child ! poor child ! It is quite natural, 
 this maidenly shrinking,'' said her father, smiling 
 like a mulberry. " Bromide of potassium — that will 
 steady you. After all, you are not going to be 
 married to-morrow, nor even the next day. Give 
 yourself a night off, my child. Don't let your 
 mother rush you. It's all very well for her. At 
 her age women can do anything ; but a girl's 
 nerves " 
 
 " It is not my nerves — it is — because I love 
 another man — and I mean to love him. I cannot 
 help it — I have tried — God knows — oh, my dear 
 father, you will pity me — you must pity me, no 
 matter how foolish I have been ! " 
 
 She broke down and would have thrown herself 
 into his arms but that he was too quick for her. 
 At the first suggestion of such a thing, he had 
 picked up his tumbler half full of Apollinaris. That 
 saved him. It was on a big red leather chair that 
 she was sobbing, not on his shirt front. 
 
 " Poor child, poor child, poor — bromide ! " he 
 murmured. " Tell me all about it, my Josephine — 
 my little Josephine. I have had a busy night of it, 
 but I can give five minutes to the troubles of my 
 httle girl." 
 
 He flattered himself that he was acting the part 
 of the father — yes, to a quaver. He half believed 
 
286 According to Plato 
 
 that she would accept without misgiving his 
 representation of an honourable character. What 
 could she know of the terms of the contract which 
 he had made — in the most delicate way, no word 
 being used on either side to which exception could 
 be taken by a sensitive person-^with Ernest Clifton, 
 respecting the feeling of the ticklish constituency of 
 Arbroath Hamlets ? 
 
 She lost some precious moments of the night in 
 sobbing. But though her father did not know very 
 much about women, he knew enough to cause him 
 to refrain from asking her to come to the point upon 
 which she was anxious to talk to him. Upstairs 
 the door of Lady Gwendolen's dressing-room banged. 
 
 " Poor little Josey ! " said the father, smoothing 
 her hair. He felt that he really would miss her 
 when Clifton had married her and he got his seat 
 in the Cabinet. 
 
 She looked up. 
 
 " I know I have been a fool, my dear father," she 
 said. " But I love another man — not Mr. Clifton, 
 and I will not marry Mr. Clifton." 
 
 " That is nonsense, my dear," said he, in a 
 pleasant, soothing tone — the tone that suggests a 
 large toleration for human weaknesses, especially 
 those of a girl, because so few of them are worth 
 talking about. " You must not worry yourself, my 
 dear. You will have worries enough when you are 
 married, if I know anything about what marriage 
 
According to Plato 287 
 
 means. Now take my advice and have a good dose 
 of bromide and get into bed. Don't get up early. 
 Had you a to.uch of the sun when you were up 
 the river ? " 
 
 " He will not listen to me ! He treats me as if 
 I were a child — a sick child J " cried Josephine 
 piteously. 
 
 The reproach annoyed him. 
 
 " You are behaving as such," he said. " I am 
 anxious to make every allowance for you, but 
 when you talk in this wild fashion — why did you 
 not stop me yesterday when I told you that I 
 had given my consent to your engagement ? " 
 
 " I did not know what to say — I was overcome 
 with surprise." 
 
 " Do you mean to tell me that he — Clifton — left 
 you the last time he was with you before you went 
 up the river, under the impression that you and he 
 were no longer engaged ? " 
 
 " I cannot say what his impression was. I asked 
 him to release me on that very day." 
 
 " What reason did you put forward for making 
 such a request ? " 
 
 " I said that — that I felt I was doing wrong in 
 remaining engaged to him in secret — without your 
 consent." 
 
 "You were quite right. But you see I have 
 removed the cause — the legitimate cause of your 
 self-reproach, The consequence is that you are 
 
288 According to Plato 
 
 engaged to him, if I know anything of logic and 
 reason." 
 
 " Oh, logic and reason ! I am only a woman, 
 God help me ! " 
 
 " My dear girl, to be a woman is to be a very 
 charming thing, if a bit unreasonable at times. You 
 are the slaves to your nerves. And these days — 
 what does the poet say ? ' It was the time of 
 roses ' — ah, neurosis, he would have written to-day 
 — ' and we plucked them as we passed.' " 
 
 She had risen. 
 
 " I am going to bed," she said. " Good-night." 
 
 " You couldn't do better, my dear. Good-night, 
 
 and God bless you ! Don't neglect the bro By 
 
 the way, I should perhaps mention to you that even 
 it I were inclined to accept your protest now it 
 would be too late. I should be powerless to do 
 anything, for the announcement is already gone to 
 the papers." 
 
 " What — you have sent it to the papers ? " 
 
 " Of course I have, that is to say, Clare has sent 
 it." (Julian Clare was Mr. West's private secretary.) 
 " It was necessary for it to appear without delay. 
 It will increase the interest in your father ; there, is 
 always a sort of reflected glory upon the father of 
 a beautiful girl who is about to be married. We 
 cannot fly in the face ot Providence and the papers 
 at the present moment. The present moment is 
 critical for the house of West." 
 
According to Plato 289 
 
 " You are going into the Cabinet? " she said. 
 " That represents the highest height of your 
 ambition." 
 
 " It is one of the peaks, at any rate," said he, 
 smiling. " It is high enough for me. Those who 
 cannot get to the summit of Mont Blanc must be 
 content with the humble Monte Rosa. And feeling 
 that your future, my child, is assured, I shall be the 
 more content, if — ah, you are quite right. Good- 
 night, good-night." 
 
 She went upstairs feeling that the fight with Fate 
 was over. What would be the use of struggling any 
 longer against what was plainly the decree of Fate ? 
 Fate is a tough antagonist at any time, but when 
 Fate and the newspapers are pulling together 
 
 She went to bed without saying her prayers. 
 
 19 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 A MBER SEVERN read the announcement in one 
 ■■^*- of the papers the next morning that a marriage 
 was arranged, and would shortly take place, between 
 Mr. Ernest Clifton, fifth son of the late Constantine 
 CHfton, of the Elms, Lynnthorpe, Esq., and Josephine, 
 only daughter of the Right Honourable J. Carew 
 West, Under-Secretary of State for the Department 
 of Arbitration. 
 
 She gave an exclamation of surprise, and this 
 was followed by one of irritation. She was more 
 than irritated, she felt that she had lost a friend — 
 her dearest friend. She had always known that 
 Josephine was somewhat reticent about her own 
 affairs for an ideal friend ; but the notion of her 
 being in love with Mr. Clifton, and carefully re- 
 fraining from giving a hint to any one of the state 
 of her heart, was past all bearing. 
 
 And yet she remembered now having had once 
 or twice during the previous six months a suspicion 
 that if Josephine was inclined to look on any man 
 of their acquaintance with especial favour, that man 
 was Mr. Clifton. She might have guessed . . . but 
 
 what about Pierce Winwood ? What about her 
 
 290 
 
According to Plato 291 
 
 father's subtle suggestions as to the possibility of 
 Josephine's looking with eyes of favour on Pierce 
 Winwood? What about that Monday morning 
 when they had come into the house together talk- 
 ing with guilty fluency about a reaping-machine 
 that was painted blue and delicately picked out 
 with vermilion ? 
 
 " I will never — never trust to the evidence of my 
 own eyes again," she cried, remembering the look 
 of exultation on Mr. Winwood's face upon that 
 day. She also made up her mind that she 
 would never again, in matters of this sort, trust to 
 the evidence of her father's experience, even though 
 conveyed to her in the choicest and most enigmatical 
 language ever employed by him. Her father had 
 shown a desire to encourage the bringing about of 
 a match between Josephine and Pierce ; and indeed 
 he had proved his possession of some of the qualities 
 of the fully equipped match-maker, which she took 
 to be a cheery readiness to assume the rdle of a 
 Providence — a sort of boarding-house Providence, 
 and a complete faith in the influence of propin- 
 quity upon opposing natures. 
 
 She would never again trust to her father's judg 
 ment. He knew too much about electricity. 
 
 She had an opportunity of telling him so, but she 
 refrained from doing so ; if he lacked judgment, there 
 was no reason for her to attempt to consolidate his 
 views on heredity by so indiscreet an act. She 
 
292 According to Plato 
 
 pointed out the paragraph to him when he came 
 down to breakfast, but made no comment upon it. 
 No one since the world began ever regarded an 
 absence of comment as an indiscretion. 
 
 " But it takes my breath away,'' said Sir Creighton. 
 " Heavens ! just think of it — Clifton — Ernest Clifton, 
 the wire-puller. What can she possibly see ... oh, 
 after all ... a curious coincidence, isn't it, that this 
 talk should be just now about her father getting a 
 seat in the Cabinet? But I can't for the life of me 
 see where Clifton comes in. He has no power of 
 that sort, whatever may be ascribed to him as an 
 organiser in the country. He could be of no use 
 to West, for his seat is a perfectly safe one. And 
 we thought " 
 
 " Ymi did, at any rate," said Amber. 
 
 " I did — I admit it. I thought — I hoped. It 
 would have come out so well. I might have been 
 able to give him a helping hand." 
 
 " To give Mr. Winwood a helping hand ? " 
 
 " I thought it quite possible, if the worst came to 
 the worst. But I suppose the business is settled in 
 the other quarter. We can do nothing now." 
 
 " Of course one can do nothing when the announce- 
 ment has appeared in the papers." Amber was dis- 
 posed to take the same view of Providence and the 
 papers as was taken by the Under-Secretary for the 
 xArbitration Department. They both appeared to 
 regard the newspaper announcement as a sort of 
 
According to Plato 293 
 
 civil ceremony, quite as binding as the one which 
 follows the singing of " The Voice that breathed 
 o'er Eden." 
 
 " I confess that I am surprised," continued Amber. 
 " But I suppose one's friends never do marry the 
 people one allots to them. Still, there was no 
 reason for Josephine to be so secret." 
 
 " Was there not ? " said her father. " Take my 
 word for it, if a woman is ever secret, it is only 
 under the severest pressure." 
 
 Amber smiled. Applying her father's aphorism 
 to herself, she refrained from expressing what she 
 thought on the subject of her father's knowledge 
 of woman's nature. 
 
 But beyond doubt Sir Creighton took deeply to 
 heart the frustration of his incipient efforts as a 
 match-maker. His daughter was surprised at his 
 head-shakings and his thoughtful pauses — at his 
 general abstraction. She knew enough of him to 
 be well aware that it was not his own work which 
 disturbed him ; he was accustomed to make merry 
 over the little aberrations of adapted electricity, just 
 as some fathers (with trustworthy memories) make 
 merry over the vagaries of their sons, and as some 
 women (with a sense of humour) can smile at the 
 fringes of their under-housemaids. It was perfectly 
 clear that Sir Creighton was profoundly discouraged 
 at the failure of his attempt to make Josephine and 
 Pierce fall in love, each with each. He felt as if 
 
294 According to Plato 
 
 Fate had openly sneered at him, and he was looking 
 about for a way of retaliating. So much at least 
 his daughter gathered from his manner and his 
 frank admissions. The frank admissions of a man 
 count for something in any honest endeavour that 
 one may make to determine what is on his mind. 
 
 "Do you know what a straight flush is, my dear?" 
 he inquired, as he rose from the table. " I thought 
 that I had the joker," he added thoughtfully — 
 regretfully. (He was the best poker player in the 
 Royal Society.) 
 
 Amber had herself been thinking out a scheme 
 of retaliation, but it was directed against her friend 
 who had been reticent to a point of unfriendliness. 
 A friend should be permitted to share her friend's 
 infirmities, but Josephine had left her friends to 
 read the announcement of her engagement in 
 the papers. 
 
 After some thought Amber came to the conclusion 
 that she would be out when Josephine should call. 
 She took it for granted that Josephine intended to 
 call, and so she made arrangements for going to the 
 Technical School of Literature immediately after 
 lunch. She would have gone before lunch — for she 
 had not been latterly so regular an attendant as 
 Mr. Richmond could have wished — but for the fact 
 that her mother had asked Lord LuUworth to drop 
 in and have lunch with them, and Amber's scheme 
 of retaliation did not go so far as to compass 
 
According to Plato 295 
 
 the personal slighting of even the least of her 
 mother's guests. 
 
 And Lord Lullworth came. 
 
 He was really very amusing, and sometimes very 
 nice ; but he was both during lunch ; it was when 
 that refection was over, and Lady Severn had gone 
 into an inner room to write out a commission — it 
 had something to do with the matching of sewing- 
 silks — for her daughter to execute in Regent Street, 
 that Lord Lullworth ceased to be amusing, because 
 he began to be funny. He told Amber that he 
 didn't mind being one of the literary arbiters on 
 the Aunt Dorothy competition, should such be set 
 on foot at the Technical School. Would dear Aunt 
 Dorothy tell him what was the colour of Adam's 
 gray mare ? Would she hazard a reply to the 
 query, under the heading of " Our Feathered Pets," 
 as to whether the white goose or the gray goose 
 was the gander ? Also could she supply some 
 information respecting the man who had twenty- 
 six sheep — twenty sick sheep, mind — and when one 
 of them died how many were left? 
 
 " I will not have my hobby made fun of," said 
 Amber. " It would do you all the good in the 
 world to come to the school." 
 
 " I believe it would," he said, after a pause, " and 
 I do believe that I'll come ; but it won't be for the 
 sake of the show, but just because you are there. 
 Now, a fortnight ago I would have laughed at the 
 
296 According to Plato 
 
 idea of going to such a show, so I think that you'll 
 agree with me in what I said about love growing. 
 I really feel that mine is becoming quite grown up. 
 He has got too big for his sailor suit, and I'll have 
 to get him measured for an Eton jacket. I wonder 
 if you have been thinking over the possibilities that 
 I placed before you that day." 
 
 " Of course I thought over them. Why shouldn't 
 I?" said Amber. 
 
 " And do they appear so ridiculous now as they 
 did then ? " 
 
 " Not nearly so ridiculous," she replied. " One 
 gets used to things. Really, there's nothing I like 
 better than to hear that you will be at some 
 place where I am going. I have — yes, I have got 
 really to like you." 
 
 " You never thought of wishing to have me for 
 a brother, did you ? " he asked apprehensively. 
 
 " Oh, never, never, I give you my word — never ! " 
 she cried, and he breathed freely once more. 
 
 " Thank goodness ! Then I've still got a chance. 
 If you had ever felt that you would like me for a 
 brother I would put on my hat and skip. Do you 
 know that you are encouraging me ? " 
 
 " Of course I know it. I meant to encourage 
 you, just to see what will come of it." 
 
 " You'll see. I should like to encourage you. 
 It will take a deal of encouragement to bring 
 vou on so that we may start scratch ; because, you 
 
According to Plato 297 
 
 know, I — I really do believe that I'm on the verge 
 of being in love with you." 
 
 " I would not go on any farther if I were you, 
 until I catch you up." 
 
 " If I thought you would one day." 
 
 " I really think that I shall — one day. There 
 is nothing like getting used to an idea. I thought 
 that I should never get reconciled to the notion of 
 a lover — a lover seems so banal — and yet already 
 I — yes, I like it. You see, I'm wondering what will 
 come of it. I was born in a laboratory atmosphere. 
 My father made his first great discovery in electricity 
 the day I was born ; that's why he called me 
 Amber. Amber is the English for the Greek word 
 electron, and that's the origin of the word electricity, 
 you know." 
 
 He looked at her admiringly. 
 
 "You don't need much to go to any school," 
 said he. "Just fancy your knowing all that! By 
 the way, don't you forget that it's in the bargain 
 that I'm to let you know if I find myself properly 
 in love with you — seriously, I mean." 
 
 " It will be so interesting," said she. " I'm dying 
 to see what will be the result of our experiment. 
 I wonder, does it matter about my not thinking 
 you good-looking ? " 
 
 He caught her hand. She flushed. 
 
 " Do you not think me good-looking ? " he asked. 
 
 " Well, really, to be candid with you, and of 
 
298 According to Plato 
 
 course it's in the ' rules ' that we are both to be 
 candid, I think you anything but — but — good 
 gracious ! what has come over me ? Only yesterday 
 I was thinking about you, and I thought of you 
 as being quite plain ; but now — now that I come 
 to look at you, I declare that you seem good-looking, 
 positively good-looking ! You have good eyes. I 
 don't suppose you ever told a lie in your life." 
 
 " That's going from a question of eyes to ethics, 
 isn't it ? but whether or not I ever had imagination 
 enough to tell a whopper, I am telling the truth 
 now when I say that I have come to the conclusion 
 that you are the nicest girl I ever met, as well 
 as the most beautiful ; that's why I tried to — 
 you see I always thought you the most beautiful 
 — that's why I tried to avoid meeting you for 
 a long time ; I was afraid that I would be dis- 
 illusioned, as they call it." 
 
 " And you were not ? " 
 
 " On the contrary, I think that — that we're on 
 the eve of a very interesting development — that's 
 how the newspapers would define the situation of 
 the moment." 
 
 " After all, nothing may come of it." There was 
 a suspicion of a sigh in her delivery of the phrase. 
 
 " Are you not taking what you would call an 
 optimistic view of the matter ? " he asked. 
 
 She actually flushed again — very slightly — as 
 she said : 
 
According to Plato 299 
 
 " The scientific atmosphere in which I was born 
 forbids optimism or pessimism. I wish to remain 
 neutral." 
 
 " I shall make no attempt to bias your judgment 
 one way or another," said he. 
 
 Lady Severn returned to the room and gave 
 her daughter her instructions regarding the silks. 
 
 "I wish you would let me do it for you, Lady 
 Severn," said Lord Lullworth seriously. " I have 
 to go to Bond Street anyway, and my horse 
 wants exercise." 
 
 Amber turned round and stared at him ; her 
 mother laughed. Then Amber put the patterns 
 of silk into one of his hands, and crying : 
 
 " Let him do it ; he really wants to do it," she 
 ran out of the room. 
 
 " I want to have a chat with you, my dear Lady 
 Severn," said he. " It was you who were good 
 enough to ask me to lunch, and yet I've hardly 
 exchanged a word with you." 
 
 " Nothing would delight me more," said Lady 
 Severn. " I will intrust you with my commission, 
 but it will do any time in the course of the 
 afternoon. We can have our chat first." 
 
 And they had their chat. 
 
 It was while it was in progress that Amber was 
 sitting at her desk in the Technical Schoolroom 
 listening to Mr. Owen Glendower Richmond's 
 enunciation of the problem in plots which was to 
 
300 According to Plato 
 
 serve as an exercise for his pupils. Amber, in her 
 haste to retaliate upon Josephine's secrecy by being 
 absent when she should call, arrived at the class- 
 room several minutes too soon. She had, however, 
 upon a former occasion, made the acquaintance 
 of the earnest American girl whose name was 
 Miss Mica Quartz Hanker — she was said to be 
 worth some ten million (dollars), and now she had 
 a pleasant little talk with her. 
 
 At first Amber hesitated approaching her, for 
 to-day Miss Hanker was dressed in deep mourning. 
 She, however, smiled invitingly toward Amber, and 
 Amber crossed the class-room to her. 
 
 " I fear that you have suffered a bereavement,'' 
 said she, in the hushed voice that suggests sympathy. 
 
 " Oh no — at least not recently ; but you must 
 surely remember that this is the anniversary of the 
 death of King James the Third," said Miss Hanker. 
 
 " Oh, King James the Third ? " said Amber. 
 " But there never was a James the Third of England." 
 
 " That is the fiction of the Hanoverians," said 
 Miss Hanker scornfully. " But we know better. I 
 am the vice-president of the White Rose Society of 
 Nokomis County, Nebraska, and we are loyal to 
 the true dynasty. We decline to acknowledge any 
 allegiance to the distant branch at present in occupa- 
 tion of the throne. The rightful Queen to-day is 
 the Princess Mary, Consort of the Prince Regent 
 of Bavaria." 
 
According to Plato 301 
 
 " I thought that the Pretender " began Amber. 
 
 " The Pretender ! " cried Miss Hanker still more 
 scornfully. " He pretended nothing. I am going 
 to separate pretence and the Pretender once and for 
 all when I write my novel, ' The White Rose.' I 
 came to this side to learn how to do it. I find 
 Owen Glendower Richmond very helpful. He has 
 royal blood in his veins — plenty of it. He may be 
 on the throne of Wales yet. Miss Amber, I don't 
 desiderate a Civil War, but when my novel comes 
 out, if the British people don't turn round and put 
 Princess Mary on their throne, they are not the 
 people I have been told they are. I don't advocate 
 extreme measures, but loyalty is loyalty, and the 
 American people are true Royalists. They can 
 never forget that it was one of the Hanoverians 
 who brought about their separation from Britain. 
 That old wound is rankling yet in the breast of 
 every true American." 
 
 And then Mr. Owen Glendower Richmond 
 entered the class-room and Amber nodded au revoir 
 to the American girl, and went to her own desk. 
 
CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 TV yT R. RICHMOND had become more carefully 
 careless in regard to his dress during the 
 past few weeks than he had yet been, Amber 
 thought. She noticed with surprise that there was 
 a breath of Bryon — a suspiration of Shelley about 
 his collars, which was not so before. He still wore 
 a frock coat, but he did it with the most pain§taking 
 negligence, and from some standpoints it did not 
 look a bit like a frock coat. His hair was short, 
 but it was plainly (in some lights) the hair of a 
 thoughtful man. The amount of thinking that goes 
 on even beneath even the shortest hair has a per- 
 turbing influence upon it ; one does not expect the 
 grass' which grows on the sides of an active volcano 
 to be ordinary grass. 
 
 He wore his tie in a loose bow. 
 
 " I am about to offer for your consideration a 
 time-study," said Mr. Richmond, when he had 
 tapped the tubular end of his quill pen upon the 
 edge of his desk. " Last week I had a most satis- 
 factory response to the home exercise on the ' Honest 
 Doubter ' form of fiction, but I must say here, lest 
 
 I should forget it, that I think it was unnecessary 
 
 302 
 
According to Plato 303 
 
 to define, as some of the class did, the doubts of the 
 honest doubter. It was also a technical error to 
 clear away his doubts. Of course there is a good 
 deal to say in favour of the domestic treatment of 
 the theme adopted by some of the class. Marrying 
 him to an estimable and brainless woman, and show- 
 ing his doubts cleared away as he stands alone in 
 the nursery, looking at the face of his sleeping child, 
 is an excellent suburban view to take of the honest 
 doubter ; nine ladies were most successful in their 
 treatment of the subject on these lines ; but I regret 
 to say that not one of them thought of the moon- 
 light. A moment's reflection should be sufficient 
 to convince any one of the impossibility of banishing 
 a strong man's doubts in the afternoon, or before 
 lunch. He must be brought full into the moonlight- 
 The technical phrase is : ' There, with the moonlight 
 of heaven streaming through the nursery window 
 upon the little face of his child, the strong man felt 
 nis heart soften and become once more as the heart 
 of a little child. All the doubts that had clung to 
 him for years, as the mists cling to the moor, fled 
 away, as those same mists melt into the moonlight. 
 He felt that a new day was breaking for him, a new 
 light, he looked down at the little sleeping face, and 
 
 cried ' You can make him say anything you 
 
 please ; but he must say it when the moon is at the 
 full. Still, I repeat, the papers were most satisfactory 
 as a whole. Now, the time-study for to-day is on 
 
304 According to Plato 
 
 a very different theme ; but it is one which I hope 
 will appeal to the imagination of a good many in 
 the class. The headings are these : Given, a young 
 man — well, not perhaps, very young — let us say, a 
 still young man, of good family, but by the force of 
 circumstances for which he is not responsible — un- 
 deserved misfortune — compelled to become a tutor in 
 a family of distinction ; he falls in love with the 
 beautiful daughter of the house ; but he is too 
 proud to confess his love, he is too modest to reveal 
 himself to her. He has his hopes — sometimes they 
 are strong when she smiles upon him ; but then he 
 thinks of his own humble position, and is on the 
 verge of despair. Required, the conclusion of the 
 story — the happy accident by which he is enabled 
 to reveal himself" 
 
 In a second a dozen at least of the young women 
 in the class were writing away for dear life ; only 
 a few thought it necessary to give any preliminary 
 consideration to the problem suggested by Mr. 
 Richmond. The little governess, however, who sat 
 at a distant desk, could not write on account of her 
 tears, and the half-pay veteran was laboriously 
 mending his quill pen. Amber, who used a reservoir 
 pen, and had never seen a quill being mended, 
 watched the operation with a curious interest. 
 
 She had no intention of making an attempt to 
 work out the theme. The truth was that her heart 
 was beginning to soften toward Josephine, and she 
 
According to Plato 305 
 
 came to the conclusion that in adopting so drastic 
 a scheme of retaliation for Josephine's secrecy 
 respecting her engagement to Mr. Clifton, she was 
 showing herself to be very hard-hearted. She felt 
 that she should have waited at home to kiss Josephine 
 when she should call. 
 
 She made up her mind not to remain at the 
 school for the Aunt Dorothy class, which followed 
 the time-study class, but to hasten to the side of 
 her friend, and, if she failed to find her at home, 
 to drive back to her own home, and catch her 
 there ; and then — well, perhaps Lord LuUworth 
 would drop in for tea, when he came back with 
 the matched silks for Lady Severn. 
 
 "You are not working out the time-study, Miss 
 Severn," said Mr. Richmond, taking a seat beside 
 her. This was his system of helpfulness referred to 
 by Miss Mica Quartz Hanker. He was accustomed 
 to take a seat by the side of some member of his 
 class — he seemed discreetly indifferent to sex in this 
 matter — in order to make suggestions as to the 
 working out of the time-study. He invariably 
 spoke in so low a tone as to run no chance of dis- 
 turbing the active members of the class. 
 
 " I do not feel much inclined to work at anything 
 just now," said Amber. " But I am glad to see so 
 many other girls doing their best. You have given 
 them confidence, Mr. Richmond." 
 
 " Then I give away what I myself stand most in 
 
 20 
 
3o6 According to Plato 
 
 need of just now,'' said Mr. Richmond, in a still 
 lower tone. 
 
 " Confidence ? " said Amber. " Oh, I think you 
 have a very firm hand in these matters, Mr. Rich- 
 mond. You deal with every problem with the hand 
 of a master." 
 
 " Alas ! " he murmured. " Alas ! I find myself 
 faltering even now — at this moment. Dear Miss 
 Severn, you will not make the attempt to work out 
 the question which I have enunciated for you — 
 believe me, it was for you only I enunciated it? — A 
 time-study ? Ah, it is with me at all times — that 
 problem. Miss Severn — Amber, will you try to 
 suggest a happy conclusion to the parable which I 
 have just uttered, when I tell you that I am in the 
 position of the man, and that I think of you in 
 the position of the girl ? " 
 
 Amber scarcely gave a start. She only looked 
 curiously at the man as if she were under the impres- 
 sion that he was enunciating another time-study 
 for her to work out — as if he were making a well- 
 meant, but more than usually unintelligible, attempt 
 to help her over a literary stile. 
 
 " I don't quite understand, Mr. Richmond," said 
 she, after a thoughtful pause. " You say that you 
 are — you " 
 
 "I am poor and obscure, and I am unfortunate 
 enough to love — to love the daughter of a distin- 
 guished family — you — you, Amber. What is to be 
 
According to Plato 307 
 
 the conclusion of the story — my love story ? — the 
 conclusion of it rests with you." 
 
 Amber heard the quill pens going scrawl, and the 
 steel pens going scratch, and the pencils going 
 scribble. The voice of Mr. Richmond had not been 
 raised louder than the voice of the pens. She was 
 too much astonished to be able to reply at once. 
 But soon the reply came. 
 
 This was it : 
 
 She picked up her little morocco writing-case 
 and folded it carefully and fastened the elastic band 
 over it ; then she picked up her parasol, rose, and 
 went to the door, without a word. He was before 
 her at the door ; he held it open for her. She 
 went out without a word. 
 
 He was in no way overcome. He simply walked 
 to another desk at which a girl was scribbling. He 
 said a few words of commendation to her. Then he 
 crossed the room to where Miss Mica Quartz Hanker 
 was sitting industriously idle. He knew that she 
 was giving all her thoughts to the solution of the 
 problem which he had offered to her, and this was 
 real industry. 
 
 " Dear Miss Mica," he said, in his low, earnest 
 voice — every time he conversed with her in this 
 voice it was not the white rose that was suggested 
 by her cheeks — " dear Miss Mica, are you making 
 the attempt to work out the question which I have 
 enunciated — believe me, it was for you only I 
 
3o8 According to Plato 
 
 enunciated it — a time-study? Ah, it is with me 
 for all time — that problem. Miss Mica, will you 
 try to suggest a happy conclusion to the parable 
 which I have just uttered, when I tell you that I 
 am in the position of the man and that I think of 
 you in the position of the girl ? " 
 
 Miss Mica proved herself to be a far more apt 
 student of the obscure than Miss Severn. She 
 looked down at the blank paper in front of her 
 saying : 
 
 " I wonder if you mean that — that — you " 
 
 " I am poor and obscure," said he, " and I am 
 unfortunate enough to love — to love the daughter of 
 a distinguished family — to love you — you ! What 
 is to be the conclusion of the story — my love 
 story? The conclusion rests with you." 
 
 Miss Hanker had mastered the literary techni- 
 calities of various sorts of proposals and acceptances ; 
 it had been Mr. Richmond's pleasing duty during 
 the month to keep the members of his class abreast 
 of that important incident in the making of fiction 
 known as The Proposal. She carried out the 
 technicalities of the " business " on the part of 
 the " addressee '' to the letter — that is to say, she 
 became suffused with a delicate pink, only she 
 became a very peony as she looked coyly down 
 to the paper on the desk. She put her ungloved 
 hand an inch or two nearer to his, raising her eyes 
 for a moment. 
 
According to Plato 309 
 
 He glanced round the room, and, having reassured 
 himself, he laid his hand gently on hers. 
 
 " Dear child," he said, " I have greatly dared — I 
 have greatly dared. You will never regret it. 
 Your novel will rank with ' Esmond,' and ' The 
 Virginians,' and ' Ben Hur ' " 
 
 " And Kate Douglas Wiggin ? " she cried. " Oh, 
 Mr. Richmond, if you promise me that I shall 
 be alluded to as the Kate Douglas Wiggin, of 
 Nebraska, I'll just go down on my knees and 
 worship you." 
 
 " Ah," he said with a smile, " she has never 
 written a historical novel. She has made books, 
 but never an Epoch. ' The White Rose ' will be 
 an Epoch-making book." 
 
 The girl's eyes filled with tears. Such a future 
 as he promised her was too dazzling to be viewed 
 except through such a dimness. 
 
 " Come to my aunt's for tea to-night," she 
 whispered ; " The Daniel Webster boarding house, 
 Guildford Street. My money is in my own hands. 
 Sixty thousand dollars." 
 
 " The legitimate end of the story has come ; 
 you have solved the question," he murmured. 
 
 He rose and returned to his desk. Sixty thousand 
 dollars — twelve thousand pounds. He had calcu- 
 lated on five millions. Sixty thousand ! well, it 
 was better than nothing. 
 
 And that insolent girl. Amber Severn, would 
 
3IO According to Plato 
 
 know that all girls were not like her — that was 
 something too. 
 
 But by the time he had come to consider this 
 very important point, Amber Severn, full of anger 
 against the man who had not hesitated to take 
 advantage of his position as the master of a school 
 in order to make a proposal to one of his pupils 
 — the man who had outraged her sense of the 
 protecting influences of Platonic Friendship, was 
 flying along in her motor-victoria in the direction 
 of Palace Gate, where was the town residence of 
 the Under-Secretary for the Arbitration Department. 
 She was burning with indignation against Mr. Owen 
 Glendower Richmond, for his having the effrontery 
 to add to the efforts which other people had already 
 made to shatter her theory. She had heard of 
 preceptors-^they were mostly in the musical line — 
 taking advantage of their opportunities to make 
 love to their pupils, and she had always held such 
 persons in contempt. But if they were contemptible, 
 how much more so was such a man as Mr. 
 Richmond — a man whose business it was to give 
 a helping hand to those who might be anxious to 
 write books illustrating the charm of disinterested 
 friendship between men and women ? 
 
 She felt very bitterly in regard to Mr. Richmond, 
 quite as bitterly as did Balak, the son of Zippor, 
 against the professional vituperator who, when he 
 had a chance of showing what stuff he was made 
 
According to Plato 311 
 
 of, had rounded upon his patron. Amber had great 
 hopes that one day a novel might be written to 
 make the world aware of the beautiful possibilities of 
 friendship for friendship's sake only, between the 
 sexes, and she had looked to Mr. Richmond to 
 help on such a project. And yet it was he who 
 had gone further than any one else in impressing 
 on her the weakness of the basis of her faith. 
 
 She was greatly disappointed. She felt that she 
 was being daily disillusioned, and no one likes to 
 be disillusioned ; it makes one feel such a fool. 
 So great an effect had the act of Guy Overton and 
 Mr. Richmond upon her, that she actually felt glad 
 that she had not bound herself irrevocably to her 
 theory, but that latterly she had hedged. She 
 knew that her attitude in regard to Lord Lullworth 
 was suggestive of the hedge. He had boldly refused 
 any compromise with her. He had told her at 
 the outset of their acquaintance that he scoffed at 
 the idea of her ideal — that his object in coming to 
 see her would be strictly anti-platonic ; and yet her 
 fondness for experiments had been so great that 
 she had not made his scoffing at her ideal of friend- 
 ship a barrier to their future association. If this 
 was not hedging there never was hedging in any 
 question of philosophy in the world ; and so far 
 as she could make out, philosophy was simply the 
 science of hedging. 
 
 She felt glad that she had encouraged Lord 
 
312 According to Plato 
 
 LuUworth, the exponent of a cult that admitted of 
 no compromise. With him she was at least safe. 
 For obvious reasons, he could never cause her to 
 feel such disappointment as she felt at the conduct 
 of Guy Overton and at the conduct of Owen 
 Glendower Richmond. When one is in the presence 
 of a man who promptly avows himself a brigand, 
 one is never surprised if one feels a tug at one's 
 purse. The surprise and the sorrow come only 
 when one is in the company of a professional 
 moralist, and detects him trying to wheedle one's 
 handkerchief out of one's pocket. 
 
 By the time she had reached the Brompton Road, 
 Amber Severn was feeling very strongly that the 
 companionship of professed brigands was much to 
 be preferred to the association with philosophers 
 who talked of disinterested friendship while in the 
 act of pocketing your silver spoons. An avowed 
 lover was, she was sure, infinitely safer than a man 
 who carries Plato in his breast pocket, and presses 
 his hand upon it while he makes a glib proposal 
 of marriage to every girl he meets. 
 
CHAPTER XXX 
 
 A MBER had been dwelling so much upon her 
 ■*■ *■ philosophy and its development, that she half 
 hoped that Josephine was not at home : there was 
 just a possibility that if Josephine was not at home, 
 she, Amber, would get back to her own home in time 
 to give Lord Lullworth a cup of tea on his return 
 with the matched silks for her mother. She was, there- 
 fore, slightly disappointed to learn that Miss West was 
 at home and in the drawing-room with her ladyship. 
 
 Josephine was paler than Amber had ever seen 
 her, and she was certainly colder than she had ever 
 known her. She scarcely made any response to 
 Amber's long kiss. 
 
 Resignation — that was the word which came to 
 Amber's mind when she held her friend by both 
 hands and looked at her. She was a statue — a 
 marble statue of resignation. The worst might 
 come ; it would not move her. 
 
 " I thought — I expected " Amber began, 
 
 with a tone of reproach in her voice. "You are 
 really going to marry him — him — Mr. Clifton ? " 
 she cried after faltering over a word or two. 
 
 "Did you not see it in the papers, and has 
 313 
 
314 According to Plato 
 
 any one the hardihood to put the papers in the 
 wrong ? " said Josephine. 
 
 " And you are to be congratulated ? I am to 
 congratulate you ? " said Amber. 
 
 " Ah, that is quite another matter, my Amber," 
 laughed Josephine. Amber did not like her laugh, 
 
 " Why should it be another matter ? " she asked. 
 " If you love " 
 
 " Heavens ! are you — you — you who are the 
 exponent of the ineffable fragrance of friendship — 
 according to Plato — are you going to talk of the 
 lustre of love ? " said Josephine. " There's a cluster of 
 phrases for you, my dear. ' The fragrance of friend- 
 ship—the lustre of love ' — quite like a modern 
 poet's phrase, is it not? Send it to your friend 
 Mr. Richmond to serve up to his fourth form pupils. 
 ' Given the phrase, to make the poem ' — that's the 
 exercise — what does he call it — the time-study ? Do 
 let us try it. It should run lilve this : ' The Fragrance 
 of Friendship is Folly ' — that's a capital line — even 
 though it does contain a memory of ' Dolores.' And 
 then you must go on — ' The Lustre of Love is a Lure.' 
 Yes, that might do, if you can't find anything better. 
 And now let us talk about something agreeable for 
 a change. Here is my dear mother dying to tell you 
 what she thinks of your trying to entrap poor Lord 
 Lully in your network of platoism. She saw you 
 in the garden at Hyde Park Gate on Monday." 
 
 Amber turned away. She had never known 
 
According to Plato 315 
 
 anything more patlietic than the May in which 
 Josephine had rushed along when once she began to 
 speak. There was not a note of Josephine's voice in 
 all she had said. When Josephine had ever played 
 at being cynical, she had gone softly — there had 
 '. een something of merriment in her voice ; but now 
 there was the gleam of chilled steel in every flash of 
 her phrases. The implacable brilliance of a bayonet 
 charge was in all her words. Amber felt as if a bird 
 which had always sung the song of a thrush had 
 suddenly developed the metallic shriek of the parrot. 
 
 She was ready to weep at the pathos of it. It 
 was pathetic ; but terrible. She saw that Josephine's 
 nerves were strung up to the highest point of 
 tension, and that was why the effect of shrillness 
 was produced by her speech. 
 
 She turned to Lady Gwendolen. Surely Lady 
 Gwendolen would at last become a mother to her 
 own daughter ! Surely she would detect the pathos 
 of the change that had come about in her nature. 
 And, indeed, Lady Gwendolen was very sympathetic. 
 
 "It is all very well to make light of the whole 
 business, my dear Amber," she cried plaintively. 
 " Daughters engage themselves to be married, and 
 sometimes get married, too, without a thought for 
 their mothers. Ah, is there no poet, no novelist, 
 who will deal adequately with the mother's tragedy ? 
 It will make me look a hundred, at the very 
 least ! A married daughter ! . . ' Good heavens ! ' 
 
3i6 According to Plato 
 
 people will say, ' I had no idea that Lady Gwen- 
 dolen had a married daughter ; why then she mast 
 be at least ' — and then they will name some horrid 
 age ; forty, maybe ; I know the way of these 
 women. ' Forty ; she must be a good way over 
 forty,' they will say. ' She was no chicken wheu 
 she married, and her daughter looks every day of 
 twenty-six ; why she must be at least fifty.' They 
 will try to make me out to be fifty — fifty-two the 
 spiteful ones will insist on ; I know them. They 
 will take very good care never to look up ' Debrett ' 
 to get at the truth. Ah, the mother's tragedy, 
 the mother's tragedy ! No one ever thinks of asking 
 about a woman's age until her daughter gets married. 
 Then it's the first thing they do. Ah, the mother's 
 tragedy ! How well that broad brim suits her, 
 doesn't it, Joe ? You didn't think, I suppose, of a bow 
 of cerise chiffon just at the curve ? A little daring 
 thing like that, you know, is often quite effective." 
 
 " I hope you will be happy, my dearest Joe," 
 said Amber. 
 
 " I shall be married, at any rate," said Josephine, 
 " and isn't that a step in the right direction ? 
 Happiness ? . . . Well, could there be anything 
 more ridiculous than an attempt to define happiness ? 
 Six months ago I had no hesitation in defining it 
 for my own benefit, I defined it — down to the very 
 man. That was where I was the fool, for now I 
 have come to think that that which I thought to be 
 
According to Plato 317 
 
 happiness is the only unhappiness that exists for me 
 in the world. But I shall face it. I shall face it. 
 When one has been a fool one must pay for it." 
 
 " Dear Joe — Oh, Joe, Joe ! Do not talk so, for 
 God's sake ! " cried Amber. 
 
 " You began it, my dear Amber," said Joe, 
 pointing a finger at her, and leaning back among 
 the cushions of her sofa. The attitude was that 
 of one of the lovely figures in Andrea's picture of 
 "The Wedding Feast," and Amber recognised it 
 with horror. " You began it — you, talking about 
 happiness and the rest of it," she continued. " Well, 
 there, I'll say no more. . . . Heavens, I forgot that 
 I did not see you since we returned from The 
 Weir ! And that seems a lifetime ago. Ah, it 
 is true, ' Marriage and death and division, Make 
 barren our lives.' I wonder why I was such a fool 
 as to go to The Weir with you, Amber ? " 
 
 " What has come over her ? She has been quite 
 as rude as that all day," complained Lady Gwendolen. 
 " I thought that nothing could make her rude, how- 
 ever full of theories she might be. But I've noticed. 
 Amber, that rudeness and a reputation usually go 
 together. At any rate, the women who are said to be 
 intellectual seem to me to be nothing but rude. As 
 soon as a woman has insulted you grossly three times, 
 you must take it for granted that her intellect is of 
 the highest order. Of course, if you think cerise too 
 trying, you might have it in a much lighter shade just 
 
3i8 According to Plato 
 
 where the brim begins to curve. You saw my toque 
 with the poppies and the corn ? I was not afraid to 
 face the strongest colour. Oh, must you really go?" 
 " She really must ; I cannot see how she could 
 possibly remain another five minutes,'' said Josephine. 
 " Amber has some sense of what is sacred and 
 what is profane. I had the same ideas a week ago, 
 but that's a long time back. Priestesses of Baal 
 must have revolted the sensitiveness of the daughters 
 of Levi. Good-bye, Amber, and take my advice 
 and don't come back to us. I should be sorry to 
 flaunt my new-found unhappiness in your face." 
 
 The tone of her voice and of her laugh that 
 followed, gave Amber the impulse to put her fingers 
 in her ears and rush from the room — from the 
 house. She resisted the suggestion, however, and 
 contented herself with a protest of uplifted hands 
 and mournfully shaking head. 
 
 " Poor Joe — poor Joe ! " she whispered. 
 " That is the sincerest congratulation I have yet 
 had," said Josephine. " It is the congratulation that 
 contains the smallest amount of bitterness. When 
 people say, ' I hope you may be happy, my dear,' 
 they mean that they wouldn't give much for my 
 chances. No, Amber, don't come back to us until I 
 get used to being engaged. So many people have 
 come. Mr. Clifton is wiser ; he stays away. Oh, 
 he was always so clever ! The idea of a girl like 
 myself trying to be equal to him ! — Good-bye, dear." 
 
According to Plato 319 
 
 Amber did not speak a word. She almost rushed 
 from the room, while Lady Gwendolen was still 
 talking, musingly, of the merits of a bow of pink 
 chiffon — it need not necessarily be a large or an 
 imposing incident in the composition of the hat 
 with the broad brim — a mere suggestion of the tint 
 would be enough, she thought. 
 
 Amber felt as if she had just come from the 
 death-bed of her dearest friend. She was horrified 
 at the tone of Josephine's voice and at the sound 
 of her laugh. She felt that she never wished to 
 see again the creature who had taken the place of 
 her dear friend, Josephine West. 
 
 The daughter of a mother who was a worldling, 
 and of a father who was a politician, Josephine had 
 ever shown herself to be free from the influence of 
 either. But now — well, even her father was able 
 to assume a certain amount of sincerity in dealing 
 with political questions, especially when a general 
 election was impending. He had never talked 
 cynically of the things which were held dear by the 
 people with the votes. And as for her mother, she 
 was in the habit of speaking with deep feeling on the 
 subject of the right fur for opera cloaks, and other 
 matters of interest to the intelligent. But there was 
 Josephine talking and laughing on the first day of her 
 engagement, with a cynicism that could not have 
 been bitterer had she been married a whole year. 
 
 What did it mean? What had brought about 
 
320 According to Plato 
 
 that extraordinary change in the girl's nature ? 
 These were the questions which distracted Amber all 
 the way to her home. 
 
 She could not forget that, after Josephine had 
 written that little paper defining Platonic Friendship, 
 she had been led to ask herself why Josephine should 
 have thought well to be so satirical on the subject ; 
 and she had come to the conclusion that Josephine's 
 attitude was due to the fact of her having a tender 
 feeling, not of friendship but of love, for some man ; 
 and Amber's suspicions fell upon Ernest Clifton. 
 She felt sure that she had noticed a certain light in 
 Josephine's face upon occasions when Mr. Clifton was 
 near her. And yet now that she had promised to 
 become the wife of Mr. Clifton, the light that was in 
 her eyes was an illumination of a very different sort 
 
 And then, as the question of exultation suggested 
 itself to her, she recollected how she fancied that she 
 had perceived such an expression on the face of her 
 friend on the Monday afternoon when she had re- 
 turned to The Weir by the side of Pierce Winwood. 
 The same expression was on the face of Pierce 
 Winwood also, and Amber had felt convinced that 
 he had told her he loved her, and that she had 
 not rejected him. 
 
 That was why they had talked so enthusiastically 
 on the subject of the reaping machine (blue, picked 
 out with vermilion). 
 
 But how was she to reconcile what she had seen 
 
According to Plato 321 
 
 and heard in the drawing-room which she had just 
 left, with her recollection of the return of Josephine 
 and the other man — not the man whom she had 
 promised to marry — from the survey of the reaping 
 machine ? 
 
 Pierce Winwood had practically confessed to her 
 that he meant to ask Josephine if she thought she 
 could love him, and the chance had undoubtedly 
 been given to him to put such a question to her. If 
 then — if — if he . . . 
 
 In an instant she fancied that she perceived all 
 that had happened. 
 
 She did not as a matter of fact perceive all that 
 had happened, but she certainly did become aware 
 of a good deal — enough for her to go on with ; 
 and a moment after perceiving this she saw that 
 Pierce Winwood was walking rapidly alongside the 
 rails of Kensington Gardens. 
 
 He saw her, and made a little motion with his 
 hand suggesting his desire to speak to her. She 
 stopped the victoria. 
 
 " I hope you will be at home this afternoon," 
 he said. " I am so anxious to speak with you 
 for five minutes." 
 
 " I will walk the rest of the way home. I have 
 not had a walk to-day," she said, stepping out of 
 the victoria. 
 
 " You are very good," he said, as the machine 
 whirled off. " Do let us turn into the gardens fpp 
 
 21 
 
322 According to Plato 
 
 a minute. I should not like to miss this chance. 
 You saw that announcement in the papers to-day ? " 
 
 " Ah — ah ! " she sighed, as they went through 
 one of the gates and on to an avenue made dim 
 by the boughs of horse-chestnut. 
 
 " Think of it ! Think of that paragraph if you 
 can when I tell you that she told me only on 
 Monday that she loved me," he cried. 
 
 She stopped short. So she had not been mistaken 
 after all. 
 
 " She promised— Josephine promised ? " 
 
 " She promised. I gave you to understand that 
 I meant to put my fate to the test, and I did so on 
 Monday. Ah, she told me that she loved me — me 
 only — me only ! and I know that she spoke the 
 truth. She loved me then, she loves me now — me 
 only ! and yet — you saw that announcement." 
 
 Amber could only shake her head dolefully. 
 Matters were getting too complicated for her. The 
 effort to reconcile one incident with another was 
 a pain to her. 
 
 " You told me that she was free," he continued. 
 " That was because you did not know that she had 
 been engaged secretly to that man. He was clever 
 enough — unscrupulous enough — clever people are 
 unscrupulous — it is only the people who are less 
 clever that fail to get rid of their scruples. At any 
 rate, he persuaded her to bind herself to him in 
 secret. Later — a fortnight ago — she insisted on his 
 
According to Plato 323 
 
 releasing her, and he did so — technically ; but in 
 parting from her — more cleverness — he gave her to 
 understand that he regarded her as still bound to 
 him. He made it a matter of honour ; she was 
 only released on parole — a trick ! Was she not 
 entitled to listen to me? No one can deny it. She 
 had her misgivings, but that was afterwards. She 
 had confessed that she loved me — me only ! I did 
 not give the matter a thought. She had no doubt 
 that she would be able to meet him. Her protection 
 was to ask him to go to her father for his consent." 
 
 " And he took her at her word. He got her 
 father's consent. They are both politicians — her 
 father and the other. And every member of the 
 Government knows enough about every other 
 member of the Government to hang him. They 
 must have made a compact together. They say that 
 Mr. Clifton is the cleverest politician in England. 
 We know what that means. My father says, ' Show 
 me the cleverest politician in England and I'll show 
 you the greatest rascal in Europe.' " 
 
 "There must have been something diabolical at 
 work. This is the letter which she wrote to me. 
 Poor girl ! Poor girl ! " 
 
 " I cannot read it — I know it all — all ! I love her. 
 I cannot listen to the despairing cries of one whom 
 I love. Poor Josephine ! I was with her just 
 now ... oh, terrible, terrible ! " 
 
 " Ah, you have been with her ? you saw her ? She 
 
324 According to Plato 
 
 would not see me. And what have you found out ? 
 Do not tell me that she cares anything for him." 
 
 " I saw her, but what could I find out ? She 
 did not confide anything to me ; she did not seek 
 to do so. I shall never go again ; she frightened 
 me. There was no word of Josephine in all she 
 said. Have you not been to her ? " 
 
 " Been to her ? How could I get that letter and 
 remain away from her ? I went in the forenoon — 
 she would not see me — the man had received his 
 instructions. That is why I was going to you. You 
 must ask her to come to you to-morrow, and I shall 
 meet her at your house. My God, cannot you 
 perceive that I must see Josephine? that she must 
 be saved from her fate? . . . What am I thinking 
 of — to talk to you in this way — commanding? 
 What can you think of me ? " 
 
 " Do not accuse me of being unable to see how 
 you love her. But I cannot do what you ask me. 
 How would it be possible ? You must write to 
 her ; persuade her to see you." 
 
 " And I thought that you were my friend." 
 
 He had stopped on the avenue, and was gazing 
 at her reproachfully. 
 
 " I am your friend," she said, " and therefore I 
 cannot do this. If you were to meet her and 
 hear her talk as I heard her to-day, you would 
 turn away from her for ever. I know that." 
 
 " Turn from her — I — I — turn from her — her ? " 
 
According to Plato 325 
 
 he cried. " Oh, let me have the chance ; you will 
 give me the chance ? " 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 " Then what am I to do ? " he said. " Would you 
 counsel me to remain passive ; to allow her to marry 
 that man whom she detests, and to send her a 
 wedding present? A diamond star would be a nice 
 present, wouldn't it? or a wheat sheaf — I saw one 
 the other day — set with pearls and diamonds ? " 
 
 " Oh, you are talking now just as she talked ; so 
 wildly, so wickedly. Cannot you see that just at 
 this moment you are both beyond the control of 
 reason ? You say things to me now that you do 
 not mean ; she did the same. If you were to meet 
 now you would say things to her — she would say 
 things to you — you would part from her for ever." 
 
 " I would be calm. I would remember that every- 
 thing depended on my being calm." 
 
 "Ah, you think so. But you cannot be calm 
 even to me. And you did not see her as I saw 
 her just now." 
 
 " Would to Heaven that I had the chance." 
 
 " Do not say that. You would drown yourself there." 
 
 (They had reached the Round Pond.) 
 
 He walked along in silence by her side — in 
 silence and with bowed head. 
 
 " I know what will happen," he said at last : " she 
 will soon become reconciled to her fate. She will 
 soon come to think that he is part of her life and 
 
326 According to Plato 
 
 I shall cease to be in any thought of hers. Well, 
 perhaps that is the best thing that could happen. 
 But I thought that she was not like other women. 
 I fancied that when she knew. . . . But you will 
 see her again ? You will tell her that I must see 
 her — surely she will let me say good-bye to her." 
 
 " I can say nothing. But you must not see her 
 now. Wait for a day or two. Oh, cannot you trust 
 her to bear you in mind for a day or two ? Did 
 she not say that she loved you ? " 
 
 " And she does — I know that she does. Oh, it 
 is the old story — the old story. Her father has 
 forced her into this." 
 
 Amber could say nothing. She thought that it 
 would be better for her not to go into the question 
 of the antiquity of the story of a girl promising to 
 marry a rich man, and her parents endeavouring 
 to marry her to a poor one — that was the summary 
 of the love story of Josephine West. 
 
 He walked in silence — comparative silence — by 
 her side until they reached the road once more. 
 At the entrance to her home, he said humbly : 
 
 " My dear Miss Severn, I feel that you have 
 given me good advice. I will obey you — I will 
 make no attempt to see her for some days. I knew 
 that I should be right in coming to you. You will 
 forgive me for the wild way I talked to you ? " 
 
 " If you had not talked in that way I would never 
 speak to you again," said Amber, giving him her hand. 
 
CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 A MBER ran upstairs to her room and threw 
 ^ herself, not upon the little sofa in her dressing- 
 room, but upon the bed in her bedroom. She was 
 guided in the right direction. She knew perfectly- 
 well that the cry which was coming was too big 
 for a sofa ; it was a bed-sized cry. 
 
 She lay in her tears for more than an hour, and 
 no one went near her to disturb her. Emotions 
 were recognised as possible in this household — 
 emotions and moods and sulks, and no member of 
 the household, ancillary or otherwise, was allowed 
 to interfere with another. 
 
 Her mother was fortunate in having been at one 
 time of her life of the same age as Amber, and she 
 had a pretty good notion how it was that her 
 daughter did not come downstairs for tea. Lady 
 Severn had heard her daughter's comments upon 
 the announcement of Josephine's engagement, and 
 having herself noticed the expression on the faces 
 of her guests at The Weir on their return together 
 from their stroll, she had no great difficulty under- 
 standing how it was possible that Amber might be 
 having a good cry after visiting her friend Josephine. 
 
 327 
 
328 According to Plato 
 
 It was, however, Sir Creighton who, before dinner, 
 asked Amber if she had learned anything by her 
 visit to Josephine. He appeared quite anxious to 
 know all that there was to be known on the subject 
 of Josephine's engagement to Mr. Clifton ; but for 
 that matter he took quite as much interest as his 
 wife in the incidents of their social life. Even the 
 humblest essays in elementary biology had a certain 
 attraction about them, he was accustomed to say. 
 
 Amber gave a spasmodic account of her call 
 upon Josephine and of her subsequent overtaking 
 of Pierce and his confession during their stroll in 
 the park. 
 
 " Just think of it," she said, by way of summing 
 up, "just think of it I She acknowledged to 
 Mr. Winwood on Monday that she loved him, 
 and yet to-day she allows it to be announced in 
 the papers that she is to be married to the other 
 man ! Was there ever anything so terrible since 
 the world began ? " 
 
 " Never, never ! " said he. " Nothing of such 
 terrible significance to Josephine and Winwood has 
 been heard of since the world began. There is a 
 good deal in this business which it is not easy to 
 understand without the aid of a trustworthy key to 
 the motives of men and women and political adven- 
 turers. If she had promised in secret long ago to 
 marry Clifton, the secret being kept a secret because 
 of the unlikelihood of her father's giving his consent 
 
According to Plato 329 
 
 to the engagement, what, I should Hke to know, has 
 occurred during the past few days to make Clifton 
 perceive that her father would give his consent ? 
 You got a hint from Josephine on this point — or 
 that fool of a mother of hers — did she say nothing 
 that would suggest a compact — a reciprocal treaty, 
 these politicians would call it — between Mr. West 
 and Mr. Clifton?" 
 
 Amber laughed scornfully. 
 
 " Lady Gwendolen talked about the new opera 
 cloaks,'' said she. 
 
 "A topic well within her grasp,'' said Sir Creighton. 
 " If I should wish for any information regarding the 
 possibilities of longevity among certain esoteric 
 developments of the opera cloak, I think I would 
 apply to Lady Gwendolen. She is, one might say, 
 the actuary of the opera cloak ; she can calculate 
 upon the theory of averages, the duration of life of 
 such ephemera." 
 
 " Yes ; but what is to be done ? " said Amber, who 
 perceived the danger of drifting into phrases and 
 fancying that because a good sentence has been 
 made, there is no need for further action. 
 
 Sir Creighton walked to a window and stood in 
 front of it, with his hands in his pockets. 
 
 " We can do a good deal," he said, after a pause 
 of considerable duration. " I know, at any rate, 
 that I can do a good deal in this matter — yes, in 
 certain circumstances, I think that I have a good 
 
330 According to Plato 
 
 deal of influence — moral influence, of course, not the 
 other sort : to avoid making use of an uglier word, 
 we shall call it ' political ' influence. But we must be 
 certain first how we stand — exactly how we stand. 
 Why should West give his consent just now to his 
 daughter's engagement to Clifton, when both persons 
 mainly concerned in the contract considered, six 
 months ago, that it would be quite useless to make 
 an appeal to him ? Why, according to what you say 
 Winwood told you, Josephine, up to last Monday, 
 felt certain it would be ridiculous to expect that 
 her father would entertain a thought of Clifton as a 
 son-in-law. Now, what we need to find out is, how 
 did Clifton convince Josephine's father that he was 
 the right man to marry his daughter ? " 
 
 Amber could not see for the life of her what 
 bearing this point had upon the question of the 
 destiny of Josephine, but she had a great deal of 
 confidence in her father. 
 
 " Mind you, my dear," resumed Sir Creighton, " I 
 do not say that Josephine has not herself to thank 
 for a good deal of this trouble. Why should she 
 allow herself to be persuaded into an underhand 
 compact with that man ? And then, having entered 
 into that compact, why does she allow herself to 
 fall in love with quite another man ? " 
 
 " How could she prevent it ? " cried Amber. 
 " How is a girl to prevent herself from falling in 
 love with one particular man ? " 
 
According to Plato 331 
 
 " Possibly a course of higher mathematics might 
 be prescribed," said Sir Creighton. " My dear 
 Amber, I don't think that Josephine is the heroine 
 of this romance. However, that is no reason why 
 she should not be happy ; it is certainly no reason 
 why Pierce Winwood should be unhappy. He at 
 least is blameless." 
 
 That was the end of their conversation at this 
 time, and Amber felt that it had not been very 
 helpful in the way of furthering the prospects of 
 Pierce Winwood, and, incidentally, of Josephine West. 
 
 She could not even see why her father should 
 laugh the laugh of a man who is gratified on 
 receiving a proof of his own shrewdness, when the 
 following morning, he pointed out to her in one of 
 the newspapers, under the heading of Changes in the 
 Cabinet, the announcement that the Minister of 
 the Annexation Department had agreed to go to the 
 Exchequer on the resignation, owing to his increasing 
 deafness, of the Chancellor, and that Mr. Joseph 
 Carew West, the Under-Secretary for the Arbitration 
 Department had accepted the portfolio thereby 
 rendered vacant, with a seat in the Cabinet. 
 
 Every paper in the kingdom contained a leading 
 article or a note under a leading article referring to 
 this important change and offering congratulations 
 to the new minister. But the paper which Sir 
 Creighton showed to his daughter went rather 
 more into the details of the Cabinet changes, and 
 
332 According to Plato 
 
 explained that it was thought by many people that 
 the Chancellor of the Exchequer would not resign 
 until a seat had been found for Mr. Eardley, who 
 had had a seat in the last Cabinet of the existing 
 Government, but who had failed to be returned for 
 his old constituency at the General Election. The 
 Government had, however, been advised that, owing 
 to the attitude of the electors of the Arbroath 
 Hamlets in regard to the war, the return of Mr. 
 Eardley for that fickle constituency could not be 
 relied on, and therefore the Under-Secretary at the 
 Arbitration Office had got his seat in the Cabinet 
 rather sooner than might have been expected. 
 
 "There is the explanation of it all," said Sir 
 Creighton. " I wondered how it was that Clifton 
 could get into his hands the wires that affected 
 West, for every one knows that West's seat is a 
 perfectly safe one, and Clifton is only a wire-puller 
 among the constituencies ? But now the whole thing 
 is clear to me. The Chancellor has made a fool of 
 himself, and the Government want to unload him. 
 ' They want their old colleague Eardley back, and 
 they ask Clifton about the Arbroath Hamlets. If 
 Clifton says ' safe,' the Chancellor will wait until 
 Eardley is returned ; if he says ' unsafe ' the vacant 
 place will be given to West. Clifton then goes 
 to West and says, ' Would you care to get into 
 the Cabinet? I can put you into the Cabinet 
 to-morrow.' ' What's your price ? ' cries West, 
 
According to Plato 333 
 
 perceiving that the object of his ambition is within 
 his reach, and hoping that Clifton will be as reason- 
 able as Mephisto was to Faust, and only say, ' Your 
 soul.' But Clifton knows that the soul of an under- 
 secretary is quoted low in the market, but that a 
 daughter is a perfectly negotiable security — oh, the 
 whole thing is clear." 
 
 " Quite clear," acquiesced Amber ; " but where 
 does Mr. Winwood come in ? " 
 
 Her father roared with laughter. 
 
 " You are surely the most practical young woman 
 that lives," he said. " Here have I been romancing 
 away in the vaguest fashion, and so overwhelmed 
 with a sense of my own cleverness that I lose sight 
 of the true objective — the phrase is one of the 
 multitudinous military critics, my dear — but you, 
 you hold me down to the dry details of the 
 matter in hand." 
 
 " You see, my dear father, I have not yet been 
 able to understand how much is gained by your 
 knowing that Mr. West had some reason for giving 
 his consent to Josephine's engagement with Mr. 
 Clifton," said Amber. 
 
 " It was necessary for me to see if Mr. Clifton 
 held debenture stock in the soul of Joseph Carew 
 West, or only ordinary shares," said Sir Creighton. 
 
 " And have you found that out ? " 
 
 " I have found that he holds merely preference 
 shares. And now that the soul of Mr, West is 
 
334 According to Plato 
 
 going into allotment, it is just possible that I may- 
 be successful in getting in on the ground floor, as 
 your friend Mr. Galmyn would say." 
 
 " I don't understand even yet." 
 
 " Better not try for a few days. Give the man 
 a chance of settling down in his place in the Cabinet 
 and feeling comfortable in regard to his future. A 
 man who has just managed to crawl into a high office 
 should not be bothered by people making inquiries 
 as to the marks of mud on the knees of his trousers. 
 There is no crawling through mud without getting 
 a stain or two. But do not forget that I am the 
 inventor of the only perfect time-fuse in existence." 
 
 He left his daughter to ponder over that dark 
 saying. The advantages of the Severn time-fuse for 
 exploding mines were so well known that even the 
 members of his own family had heard of them. But 
 what did her father, who was the least egotistical 
 man on the face of the earth, mean by referring to 
 that special invention of his ? 
 
 She was annoyed by his attitude of mystery ; and 
 when the afternoon came she was still further 
 annoyed, when in the course of giving Arthur 
 Galmyn a cup of nice tea, he begged of her to 
 marry him, confessing that he had gone on the 
 Stock Exchange only out of love for her, and 
 threatening to go back to poetry once more if she 
 refused him. 
 
 Regardless of this pistol held to her head, she 
 
According to Plato 335 
 
 told him that he had disappointed her. She had 
 always looked on him as a true friend. 
 
 He hurried away at the entrance of Mr. Willie 
 Bateman, and before Mr. Bateman had eaten his 
 second hot cake, he had assured her that if she were 
 good enough to marry him, she might depend upon 
 his making her the most celebrated woman in 
 England. He had a plan, he said — an advertising 
 system that could not possibly fail, and if she re- 
 jected him he would communicate it to the Duchess 
 of Manxland who was at her wit's end to find 
 some new scheme of advertising herself — she had 
 exhausted all the old ones. 
 
 But even the force of this threat did not prevent 
 Amber from telling him that he had disappointed 
 her. She had always looked on him as a true 
 friend. 
 
 When he had gone away in a huff, she ate the 
 remainder of the hot cakes, and reflected that 
 she had received four proposals of marriage within 
 the week. 
 
 This was excessively flattering and annoying, and 
 the truth began to be impressed upon her that 
 Platonic Friendship was all that Josephine had said 
 it was, and that it was, in addition, a perpetual 
 encouragement to a timorous lover. 
 
CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 A LETTER received from Pierce Winwood 
 ■^^- two days later, made her inclined to ask, 
 as he did several times in the course of three 
 hurricane pages, if inaction as a policy might not 
 be pursued too long ? Her father had responded 
 enigmatically to her hints that she thought if a 
 Cabinet Minister could not settle down in his 
 seat in the course of two days, he must be 
 singularly ill-adapted for a career of repose. 
 
 He had laughed heartily when she asked him 
 again if Mr. West was not ready for the time-fuse ? 
 or was it the time-fuse that was not ready for 
 Mr. West ; but the questions were not further re- 
 sponded to ; and now here was Mr. Winwood saying 
 that he would call this very day. 
 
 His announcement sounded like the tradesman's 
 threat which she had once seen at the foot of a 
 college bill of her brother's, to the effect that the 
 writer would call on such a day at such an hour, 
 and hoped that Mr. West would find it convenient 
 to have his money ready for him. 
 
 She found, on counting her loose change, — all that 
 she had got from her father in response to her 
 
 336 
 
According to Plato 337 
 
 hints — that she had not enough to pay Pierce 
 Winwood — that she would not even be able to give 
 him something on account. She had neither seen 
 Josephine nor heard anything about her ; and she 
 knew i better than to fancy that the ardent lover 
 would go away satisfied with the parable of the 
 time-fuse. 
 
 She had all the courage of her sex ; but she could 
 not face him. She actually felt herself becoming 
 nervous at the thought of his entering the room and 
 repeating in her ears the words which he had shouted 
 into his letter. His noisy letter had greatly disturbed 
 her ; so after an interval — an uneasy interval — she 
 rushed at paper and pens and scrawled off a page 
 in precisely the same style as that which he had 
 made his own, begging him for Heaven's sake to be 
 patient, if it was possible, for a few days still, and 
 entreating him to be a man. (She knew that this 
 was nonsense ; to be a man was to be wildly un- 
 reasonable, and absurdly impatient in simple matters, 
 such as waiting until a young woman came to 
 know her own mind.) 
 
 She was in the act of putting her avalanche letter, 
 written in reply to his hurricane pages, into its 
 envelope, when the door of the small drawing-room 
 where she was sitting at a writing-table, was flung 
 open and Josephine swooped down on her, kissing 
 her noisily and crying in her ear the one word, 
 " Saved — saved — saved ! " after the style of the 
 
 22 
 
33^ According to Plato 
 
 young woman in the last popular melodrama — 
 only much less graceful in pose. 
 
 " What — what — what ? " cried Amber spasmodi- 
 cally, within the encircling arms of her friend. 
 
 Then they both rose, as it might be said, to the 
 surface of their overwhelming emotions, and stood 
 facing each other breathless and disordered. 
 
 Josephine went off in a peal of laughter ; Amber, 
 ever sympathetic though burning with curiosity, 
 followed her, and then they flung themselves on the 
 sofa — one at each end, and laughed again. 
 
 " I am saved — saved — and I come to you to tell 
 you so," cried Josephine, catching one of Amber's 
 hands and swinging her arm over the cushions that 
 billowed between them. 
 
 " Saved — saved — is he dead — or — or — has he 
 been found out ? " whispered Amber. " Clever 
 men invariably are found out." 
 
 " Found out ? — oh, I found him out long ago 
 — the day he tricked me into believing that I was 
 still bound to him, though he had just pretended to 
 set me free. But to-day — before lunch time — by 
 the way, I have had no lunch yet ? " 
 
 Both girls laughed as aimlessly as octoroons at 
 this point. It seemed so ridiculous not to have 
 had lunch. 
 
 " Before lunch — he came to you ? " suggested 
 Amber. 
 
 " Not he — not Launcelot but another — the other 
 
According to Plato 339 
 
 was a young woman — oh, quite good looking, and 
 wearing a very pretty Parma-violet velvet hat with 
 ospreys, and a cashmere dress, with an Eton jacket 
 trimmed with diagonal stripes of velvet to match 
 the hat — oh, quite a nice girl. I had never seen 
 her before — she had sent in her name — Miss Barbara 
 Burden — such a sweet name, isn't it ? " 
 
 " Quite charming ! Who was she ? I never 
 heard the name ? " 
 
 " I had never heard the name. I fancied that 
 she had come about a bazaar for the widows and 
 orphans, so many strangers come about that, you 
 know — but she hadn't. I saw her. It was most 
 amusing ; but she was quite nice. She had the 
 newspaper in her hand with that announcement 
 — that horrid announcement " 
 
 " I know — I know." 
 
 " Do you love that man, Miss West ? " she began, 
 pointing to the paragraph. 
 
 " Good gracious ! That was a beginning — and a 
 total stranger ! " 
 
 " So I thought. Of course I became cold and digni- 
 fied. ' Have you not seen that I am going to marry 
 Mr. Clifton ? ' I asked in as chilling a voice as I 
 could put on at a moment's notice. ' What I mean 
 is this,' said the young woman, ' if you tell me that 
 you are about to marry him, because you love him, 
 I will go away now and you will never hear any- 
 thing of me again. But if you cannot say truly that 
 
34° According to Plato 
 
 you do love him, I will tell you that the day you 
 marry him I shall bring an action against him that 
 will go far to ruin his career and to make you 
 unhappy for the rest of your life, unless you are very 
 different from what I have heard you are, Miss West.' " 
 
 " Heavens ! " 
 
 " I looked at her and saw that she was quite 
 nice. ' I cannot tell you that I love him,' said I, 
 ' but I can tell you that I detest him, and that I 
 love somebody else. Is that good enough for you 
 to go on with ? ' ' Thank God ! ' she cried quite 
 fervently, and then she told me her story. Oh, 
 there was nothing wicked in it. She is the daughter 
 of a doctor in a town where he once lived before he 
 came to London. Her father was a man of influence 
 in the town, and Mr. Clifton became engaged to the 
 girl — but in secret — no one was to know anything 
 about it until he should find himself in a position 
 to get her father's consent." 
 
 " A country doctor ; Mr. Clifton must have been 
 in a small way even then.'' 
 
 " So he was — he hoped to better himself by 
 marrying her, however. She showed me several 
 letters that he had written to her — clever letters, but 
 still such letters as would be received with laughter, 
 in brackets, if read in a Court of Law. Well, he left 
 that town and went to a larger, and, having worked 
 himself into a better position, he found that to marry 
 the girl would be to marry beneath him — that was 
 
According to Plato 341 
 
 the girl's phrase — ' to marry beneath him ' — so he 
 engaged himself — also in secret — to a girl above 
 him in social position ; but in the meantime he had 
 worked himself up and up until he came to London, 
 and was a sufficiently important person to get me 
 to engage myself to him — in secret too — and — 
 that's the whole story the young lady had to tell 
 only — yes, I forgot ; before he met her he had 
 actually engaged himself to a girl in Lynnthorpe, a 
 grocer's daughter in the town — Miss Burden found 
 that out also. Was there ever anything so amusing 
 heard since the world began — such a comedy of 
 courtships ? He had been gradually working himself 
 up through the whole gamut of the social scale until 
 he reached the dizzy height represented by me — 
 me ! But there is a sublimer height even than me, 
 and now he shall have his chance of reaching it." 
 
 " And we have always thought him so clever ! " 
 
 " So he is. But the cleverest men that have ever 
 lived have had their weaknesses. His little weak- 
 ness seems to have been the secret engagement. It 
 appears that he has never been able to resist it. He 
 has gone from one girl to another like a butterfly 
 He will marry the daughter of a duke now." 
 
 " You believed the girl — Miss Burden ? " said 
 Amber in a tone that suggested suspicion. 
 
 Josephine laughed and patted her hand. 
 
 " He came into the room while we were together," 
 she said. 
 
342 According to Plato 
 
 " Oh ! " 
 
 " He had not been to see me since Tuesday, and 
 to-day is Saturday ; he thought it better on the 
 whole to let me get accustomed to the situation 
 which was the natural sequel to the announcement in 
 the papers. But he came to-day. He met the other 
 girl — she was really only one of the other girls — face 
 to face. You never saw anything so funny. For a 
 moment I thought that he would make the attempt to 
 strangle her as the villain on the stage does. But 
 he did nothing of the sort. ' I have just been telling 
 Miss West that the day you marry her I shall bring 
 an action against you and give the leader writers 
 of the opposition a chance of showing off their 
 cleverness in dealing with the case of Burden v. 
 Clifton,' said she quite nicely. And he was dumb — 
 absolutely dumb ! ' But Miss West has too high a 
 regard for Mr. Clifton to precipitate such an event,' 
 said I ; and then my father came into the room." 
 
 " More comedy ! " 
 
 " I felt equal to playing my rdle. My father 
 looked from me to Mr. Clifton, and from Mr. Clifton 
 to Miss Burden. ' Oh,' I said, ' I forgot that you 
 don't know Miss Burden, papa. This is my father, 
 Miss Burden. Miss Burden is the young lady whom 
 Mr. Clifton promised to marry four years ago. It is 
 a nice question, and one which no doubt will have 
 to be decided in a Court of Law, but it really seems 
 to me that he is still engaged to marry Miss Burden. 
 
According to Plato 343 
 
 But of course there were other girls and other 
 secret engagements.' " 
 
 " You said that ? How neat ! And your father ? " 
 
 " He said, ' Don't be a fool, Josephine. What 
 
 nonsense is this, Clifton ? ' 'I think I should Hke 
 
 five minutes alone with Miss Burden ; I believe I 
 
 could bring her to see that nothing would be gained 
 
 by ' ' I do not want such an interview with you,' 
 
 said Miss Burden. ' I am here, and if Mr. West 
 wishes to ask me any question — Mr. West or Miss 
 West — I shall answer it in your presence, Ernest.' I 
 pitied my father, I really did. ' Clifton,' said he, ' do 
 you mean to tell me that you were not a free man 
 when you made your proposal to my daughter ? ' 'A 
 free man ? That girl is a fool — an utter fool ! ' said 
 Mr. Clifton. ' Good heavens ! because a man happens 
 — psha ! it was four years ago. There is nothing 
 criminal in the business ! ' ' Oh no,' said I, ' nothing 
 criminal, only ridiculous ; but for my part I have no 
 intention of allowing my name to be associated with 
 the brackets in the newspaper reports enclosing the 
 words " Great laughter in court " and I cannot believe 
 that my father anticipates such a destiny for me.' 
 Then my father did a foolish thing. He said, ' Madam, 
 what damages do you hope for in this matter ? Do 
 you fancy that any jury would award you more than 
 a thousand pounds? That would be ridiculous. 
 But at the same time — I have my cheque book here 
 — suppose we say fifteen hundred pounds ? ' " 
 
344 According to Plato 
 
 " He fancied that she would take it ? Was he 
 deceived by the ospreys in her Parma-violet hat, 
 do you think ? " 
 
 " He couldn't have been, they were quite simple 
 But, anyhow, the girl walked straight to the door 
 and was out before any one could say a word." 
 
 " How good ! " 
 
 " I ran after her and caught her up on the landing. 
 I kissed her, and — well, I didn't think it worth while 
 returning to the drawing-room. But when I was 
 putting on my hat to come to you, my father met 
 me and said, ' Don't you fancy that because this 
 business has gone astray for a while, there is the 
 smallest chance of your getting my consent in regard 
 to — to that fellow from Australia. Perhaps it is 
 as well for us to be clear of Clifton — such men have 
 no sense of honour ; but don't you think for a 
 moment that this Winwood man — Clifton told me 
 all about him — will get my consent' So you see, 
 my dear, although I have escaped from Ernest 
 Clifton. . . . Oh, how horribly I talked when you 
 came to see me ! . . . But you knew that I cared 
 for Pierce — you knew that I had given him my 
 promise — you knew that he " 
 
 And at this point Mr. Pierce Winwood was 
 announced, and Amber Severn rushed past him 
 as he entered the room. 
 
 » * * *- * 
 
 " My dear West," said Sir Creighton Severn, when, 
 
According to Plato 345 
 
 after church the next day, he found himself seated 
 opposite to the new Minister of the Annexation 
 Department in Mr. West's library, — "my dear West, so 
 old a friend as I am should be the first to offer you 
 congratulations. You see that your ambition was not 
 the foolish impulse that so many people in the old 
 days said that it was. You had the stuff in you." 
 
 " I knew that you would be the first, my dear 
 Severn," said the new minister. " We have both 
 done very well for ourselves since those old days — 
 those cruel old days, Severn. Ah, we had both 
 ambitions of the right sort. We knew how to make 
 the most of our opportunities, you and I. Yes, we 
 have done pretty well for ourselves." 
 
 " And we have done pretty well for others, too — 
 if people only knew it," said Sir Creighton. 
 
 " Yes, yes, the world is the happier for our having 
 lived in it — you in particular, Severn — you in 
 particular. Your inventions — where are they going 
 to end ? that's what some one was saying to me the 
 other day — a man at the Admiralty — we had been 
 hearing the result of the trial of that boat of yours. 
 Ah, you are fortunate, Severn. Your work is recog- 
 nised freely ; whereas the labours of one who aspires 
 to be thought a statesman — ah, how few appreciate 
 the life of perpetual self-sacrifice which we are com- 
 pelled to lead ! People talk of the sweets of office 
 — sweets ? Do you know, Severn, I feel greatly in- 
 clined sometimes to relinquish for ever all this worry 
 
34^ According to Plato 
 
 of political life — all this noise — the clamour — the — 
 the strepitum — that is the word — the strepitum — 
 and settle down to enjoy the life which is nearest to 
 my heart — the home life — the home— the hearth." 
 
 " Not yet — not yet, my friend," said Sir Creighton, 
 shaking his head sadly. " You are not your own 
 master now. Your duty may be an onerous one, 
 but there are too few statesmen in England for 
 you to think of retiring yet awhile." 
 
 " Well, perhaps, one should not look at such a 
 matter from the standpoint of one's private feelings. 
 You do not see so much of me nowadays as you 
 once did, Severn ; if you did you would know 
 that the home — the hearth — ah — ah ! " 
 
 " We do not see so much of each other ; but our 
 children — our girls, you know that they are insepar- 
 able — West, you are the father of a girl whom I 
 have come to understand, and to understand such 
 a nature as her's is to love her. I love her as I 
 do my own child ; and I am here to talk about her." 
 
 " Ah, Severn, she is a good girl— a noble girl, but 
 — well, frankly, I am rather glad that this affair with 
 Clifton has come to an end. It will be years before 
 Clifton is anything but the merest wire-puller — a 
 paltry provincial sort of jobbing jerrymanderer — not 
 without his uses, of course, — those organisms have 
 their uses to us ; but I think that my daughter 
 has every right to look for some one— some one, in 
 short, more in her own rank in life. You heard, oi 
 
According to Plato 347 
 
 course, that Clifton had been a fool — that it would 
 be impossible for us to entertain any longer the 
 idea of " 
 
 " I saw Josephine yesterday. I am quite of your 
 way of thinking in this matter. Clifton behaved 
 badly from the first — inducing her to do an under- 
 hand thing — I know that her better nature recoiled 
 from it. I cannot understand how you ever came 
 to give your consent, West." 
 
 " Well, you see, I believed that she loved him, 
 and a girl's heart — ah, Severn, Severn, when the 
 prospect of one's daughter's happiness " 
 
 " That is what I want to talk to you about. 
 West — her future happiness — and yours." 
 
 " If you are going to talk to me about that man 
 from Australia — or is it New Zealand? — whom she 
 fancies she loves, you may spare yourself the trouble, 
 my dear friend— I decline to discuss a man so 
 obviously — flagrantly ineligible." 
 
 " I have found out a good deal about him during 
 the past month, and I have heard nothing except 
 what is good." 
 
 " Good — good — what signifies goodness ? — I mean 
 of course, that my daughter is now in a very different 
 position from that she occupied six month's ago. 
 The best families in the land might receive her with 
 open arms. But a Colonial — well, of course, they 
 are doing very well in the war, the Colonials, and the 
 Mother Country is proud of them — yes, quite proud 
 
34^ According to Plato 
 
 of them. But for my daughter to marry a man 
 
 who does not know his own father " 
 
 I know all about his father, though he does not." 
 
 " I don't want to know anything, West. His 
 father may have been the Archbishop of Canterbury 
 for all I care ; but the chances are that he was a 
 convict — or a descendant of convicts." 
 
 " You have not guessed very wide of the mark : 
 his father was a convict." 
 
 " What ! and you are here to suggest that — that 
 
 Good lord, Severn, you are mad — oh, you 
 
 must be mad ! " 
 
 " I do not consider that he is any the worse for 
 being the son of a convict. There is always the 
 possibility of a convict being innocent." 
 
 " Oh, they all afifirm their innocence, of course. 
 Now, that is all I want to hear about either father 
 or son. You will stay to lunch, I hope ; oh, yes, 
 you must stay to lunch. The earl may drop 
 in afterwards ; his son is certainly coming. You 
 know Lord Lullworth — a promising young fellow, 
 Severn — quite promising. Come upstairs ; Lady 
 Gwendolen will be pleased." 
 
 " One moment, my dear West. I happen to 
 know that the convict father of Pierce Winwood, 
 as he calls himself, was innocent of the crime for 
 which he suffered." 
 
 " Then comfort the son with that information. 
 He will be glad to believe it, I am confident." 
 
According to Plato 349 
 
 " Shall I add to that information the name of the 
 criminal on whose behalf he suffered ? " 
 
 " You may add the names of all the heroes of the 
 Newgate Calendar, if you please, my dear friend." 
 
 " I will not offer him so interesting a catalogue. 
 But come with me — I have taken the liberty of 
 bringing him here with me ; he is upstairs — I will 
 give him the name of the real criminal in your 
 presence, and in the presence of the earl and the 
 earl's son, and also present him with the proofs — 
 with the proofs, which I have in my pocket, that 
 I have not made a mistake." 
 
 Sir Creighton took a step toward the door. 
 
 Mr. West did not move. His jaw had fallen. 
 He had grasped the back of a chair. 
 
 The gong sounded for luncheon, filling up the 
 long pause with its hum. 
 
 " For God's sake — for God's sake ! " whispered 
 the Cabinet Minister. 
 
 " I tell the truth, West," said Sir Creighton. 
 " The son of Richard Gaintree, the man who was 
 in your father's works with myself and with you — 
 the man who in that strange way when we thought 
 he was at the point of death, confessed to the 
 crime which you committed, and so saved you — 
 the man whom you saw go cheerfully to prison, 
 without speaking a word to save him — that man 
 is the father of Pierce Winwood as certain as we 
 stand here." 
 
35° According to Plato 
 
 Mr. West gazed at Sir Creighton Severn for some 
 minutes, and then, with an articulation that was half 
 a cry and half a groan, dropped into the chair in 
 front of him, and bowed his head down to his 
 hands on the table. 
 
 For a long time his visitor did not speak — did not 
 stir. At last he went to him and laid his hand on 
 his shoulder. 
 
 " ' God moves in a mysterious way' ; you remember 
 that hymn at the chapel in the old days, Joseph ? " he 
 said in a low voice. " Though we have drifted away 
 from the chapel, we can still recognise the truth of 
 that line. I know that for years you have thought 
 and thought if it might be possible for you to 
 redeem that one foolish act of your life — to redeem 
 your act of cowardice in sending that man to suffer 
 in your place. Well, now, by the mysterious work- 
 ing of Providence, the chance is offered to you." 
 
 " And I will accept it — I will accept it as I did 
 the offer of Richard Gaintree," cried West, clutching 
 at his friend's arm. " Thank God I can do it — I 
 can do it ! But he need not know — the son need 
 not know — you say he does not know ? " 
 
 " He knows the story — the bare story, but his 
 father hid the names from him. He need never 
 know more than he does now." 
 
 " Send them to me — send them to me, quick, 
 Severn, quick — I may die before I have accomplished 
 the act of restitution." 
 
According to Plato 351 
 
 Sir Creighton put out his hand, the other man 
 put his own right hand into it for a moment. 
 
 Sir Creighton went upstairs to the drawing-room 
 where Josephine and Pierce were sitting with Lord 
 LuUworth and Amber. Lady Gwendolen was still 
 in her dressing-room. 
 
 Josephine started up at his entrance. She looked 
 eagerly — inquiringly at him. 
 
 " He is in his study. He wants to see you both. 
 Dear child, you have my congratulations — and you, 
 too, Winwood." 
 
 Josephine was in Sir Creighton's arms before he 
 had finished speaking. 
 
 " We are starving. What has happened ? " cried 
 Amber, with some awe in her voice, when Josephine 
 and Pierce had disappeared. 
 
 " The time-fuse has burnt itself down — that's all," 
 said her father. " Listen, you can almost hear Mr. 
 West telling his daughter that his fondest wish has 
 always been for her happiness, and that he is ready 
 to sacrifice all his aspirations and ambitions in order 
 that she may marry the man whom she loves. 
 That is what he is saying just now." 
 
 And, sure enough, that was exactly what Mr. 
 West was saying at that moment. 
 
 " But the time-fuse ? " said Amber. 
 
 " Time-fuse — the time-fuse," said Lord Lullworth. 
 " Ah ! that reminds me. Well, I may as well get it 
 
352 According to Plato 
 
 over at once, Sir Creighton. The fact is that I — ^I 
 have — well, I gave myself a time-fuse of six months 
 to fall in love with your daughter, but the explosion 
 has come a good deal sooner than I expected. 
 She says she thinks that she may come to think 
 about me as I do of her in about four months.'' 
 
 " Oh, less than four months, now ! " cried Amber. 
 " It was four months half an hour ago. Half an hour 
 of the time-fuse has burnt away, and it's not the real 
 Severn time-fuse, I know, for I've no confidence that 
 the climax may not be reached at any time." 
 
 " You are a pair of young fools,'' said Sir 
 Creighton. " And yet — well, I don't know, you 
 may be the two wisest people in the world." 
 
 " Great Queen of Sheba ! we can't be so bad as 
 all that," said Lord Lullworth. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 Printed by Hazell, Watson, ^ Viney, Ld.^ London and Aylesbwy, 
 
mMmmm.