all roads lead to calvary-第22部分

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numerous　papers。　　Evidently　Democracy　had　been　throbbing　with　a　passion　for　Protection　hitherto　unknown；　even　to　itself。

〃He　means　it　kindly；〃　laughed　Phillips。　　〃He　is　offering　me　an　excuse　to　surrender　gracefully。　　We　must　have　a　public　meeting　or　two　after　Christmas；　and　clear　the　ground。〃　　They　had　got　into　the　habit　of　speaking　in　the　plural。

Mrs。　Phillips's　conversion　Joan　found　more　difficult　than　she　had　anticipated。　　She　had　persuaded　Phillips　to　take　a　small　house　and　let　her　furnish　it　upon　the　hire　system。　　Joan　went　with　her　to　the　widely　advertised　〃Emporium〃　in　the　City　Road；　meaning　to　advise　her。　　But；　in　the　end；　she　gave　it　up　out　of　sheer　pity。　　Nor　would　her　advice　have　served　much　purpose；　confronted　by　the　〃rich　and　varied　choice〃　provided　for　his　patrons　by　Mr。　Krebs；　the　〃Furnisher　for　Connoisseurs。〃

〃We've　never　had　a　home　exactly；〃　explained　Mrs。　Phillips；　during　their　journey　in　the　tram。　　〃It's　always　been　lodgings；　up　to　now。　Nice　enough；　some　of　them；　but　you　know　what　I　mean；　everybody　else's　taste　but　your　own。　　I've　always　fancied　a　little　house　with　one's　own　things　in　it。　　You　know；　things　that　you　can　get　fond　of。〃

Oh；　the　things　she　was　going　to　get　fond　of！　　The　things　that　her　poor；　round　foolish　eyes　gloated　upon　the　moment　that　she　saw　them！　Joan　tried　to　enlist　the　shopman　on　her　side；　descending　even　to　flirtation。　　Unfortunately　he　was　a　young　man　with　a　high　sense　of　duty；　convinced　that　his　employer's　interests　lay　in　his　support　of　Mrs。　Phillips。　　The　sight　of　the　furniture　that；　between　them；　they　selected　for　the　dining…room　gave　Joan　a　quite　distinct　internal　pain。　　They　ascended　to　the　floor　above；　devoted　to　the　exhibition　of　〃Recherche　drawing…room　suites。〃　　Mrs。　Phillips's　eye　instinctively　fastened　with　passionate　desire　upon　the　most　atrocious。　　Joan　grew　vehement。　　It　was　impossible。

〃I　always　was　a　one　for　cheerful　colours；〃　explained　Mrs。　Phillips。

Even　the　shopman　wavered。　　Joan　pressed　her　advantage；　directed　Mrs。　Phillips's　attention　to　something　a　little　less　awful。　　Mrs。　Phillips　yielded。

〃Of　course　you　know　best；　dear；〃　she　admitted。　　〃Perhaps　I　am　a　bit　too　fond　of　bright　things。〃

The　victory　was　won。　　Mrs。　Phillips　had　turned　away。　　The　shopman　was　altering　the　order。　　Joan　moved　towards　the　door；　and　accidentally　caught　sight　of　Mrs。　Phillips's　face。　　The　flabby　mouth　was　trembling。　　A　tear　was　running　down　the　painted　cheek。

Joan　slipped　her　hand　through　the　other's　arm。

〃I'm　not　so　sure　you're　not　right　after　all；〃　she　said；　fixing　a　critical　eye　upon　the　rival　suites。　　〃It　is　a　bit　mousey；　that　other。〃

The　order　was　once　more　corrected。　　Joan　had　the　consolation　of　witnessing　the　childish　delight　that　came　again　into　the　foolish　face；　but　felt　angry　with　herself　at　her　own　weakness。

It　was　the　woman's　feebleness　that　irritated　her。　　If　only　she　had　shown　a　spark　of　fight；　Joan　could　have　been　firm。　　Poor　feckless　creature；　what　could　have　ever　been　her　attraction　for　Phillips！

She　followed；　inwardly　fuming；　while　Mrs。　Phillips　continued　to　pile　monstrosity　upon　monstrosity。　　What　would　Phillips　think？　　And　what　would　Hilda's　eyes　say　when　they　looked　upon　that　recherche　drawing…room　suite？　　Hilda；　who　would　have　had　no　sentimental　compunctions！　　The　woman　would　be　sure　to　tell　them　both　that　she；　Joan；　had　accompanied　her　and　helped　in　the　choosing。　　The　whole　ghastly　house　would　be　exhibited　to　every　visitor　as　the　result　of　their　joint　taste。　　She　could　hear　Mr。　Airlie's　purring　voice　congratulating　her。

She　ought　to　have　insisted　on　their　going　to　a　decent　shop。　　The　mere　advertisement　ought　to　have　forewarned　her。　　It　was　the　posters　that　had　captured　Mrs。　Phillips：　　those　dazzling　apartments　where　bejewelled　society　reposed　upon　the　〃high…class　but　inexpensive　designs〃　of　Mr。　Krebs。　　Artists　ought　to　have　more　self…respect　than　to　sell　their　talents　for　such　purposes。

The　contract　was　concluded　in　Mr。　Krebs'　private　office：　　a　very　stout　gentleman　with　a　very　thin　voice；　whose　dream　had　always　been　to　one　day　be　of　service　to　the　renowned　Mr。　Robert　Phillips。　　He　was　clearly　under　the　impression　that　he　had　now　accomplished　it。　Even　as　Mrs。　Phillips　took　up　the　pen　to　sign；　the　wild　idea　occurred　to　Joan　of　snatching　the　paper　away　from　her；　hustling　her　into　a　cab；　and　in　some　quiet　street　or　square　making　the　woman　see　for　herself　that　she　was　a　useless　fool；　that　the　glowing　dreams　and　fancies　she　had　cherished　in　her　silly　head　for　fifteen　years　must　all　be　given　up；　that　she　must　stand　aside；　knowing　herself　of　no　account。

It　could　be　done。　　She　felt　it。　　If　only　one　could　summon　up　the　needful　brutality。　　If　only　one　could　stifle　that　still；　small　voice　of　Pity。

Mrs。　Phillips　signed　amid　splutterings　and　blots。　　Joan　added　her　signature　as　witness。

She　did　effect　an　improvement　in　the　poor　lady's　dress。　　On　Madge's　advice　she　took　her　to　a　voluble　little　woman　in　the　Earl's　Court　Road　who　was　struck　at　once　by　Madame　Phillips's　remarkable　resemblance　to　the　Baroness　von　Stein。　　Had　not　Joan　noticed　it？　Whatever　suited　the　Baroness　von　Steinallowed　by　common　consent　to　be　one　of　the　best…dressed　women　in　Londonwas　bound　to　show　up　Madame　Phillips　to　equal　advantage。　　By　curious　coincidence　a　costume　for　the　Baroness　had　been　put　in　hand　only　the　day　before。　It　was　sent　for　and　pinned　upon　the　delighted　Madame　Phillips。　Perfection！　　As　the　Baroness　herself　would　always　say：　　〃My　frock　must　be　a　framework　for　my　personality。　　It　must　never　obtrude。〃　The　supremely　well…dressed　woman！　　One　never　notices　what　she　has　on：　　that　is　the　test。　　It　seemed　it　was　what　Mrs。　Phillips　had　always　felt　herself。　　Joan　could　have　kissed　the　voluble；　emphatic　little　woman。

But　the　dyed　hair　and　the　paint　put　up　a　fight　for　themselves。

〃I　want　you　to　do　something　very　brave；〃　said　Joan。　　She　had　invited　herself　to　tea　with　Mrs。　Phillips；　and　they　were　alone　in　the　small　white…panelled　room　that　they　were　soon　to　say　good…bye　to。　　The　new　house　would　be　ready　at　Christmas。　　〃It　will　be　a　little　hard　at　first；〃　continued　Joan；　〃but　afterwards　you　will　be　glad　that　you　have　done　it。　　It　is　a　duty　you　owe　to　your　position　as　the　wife　of　a　great　leader　of　the　people。〃

The　firelight　showed　to　Joan　a　comically　frightened　face；　with　round；　staring　eyes　and　an　open　mouth。

〃What　is　it　you　want　me　to　do？〃　she　faltered

〃I　want　you　to　be　just　yourself；〃　said　Joan；　〃a　kind；　good　woman　of　the　people；　who　will　win　their　respect；　and　set　them　an　example。〃　She　moved　across　and　seating　herself　on　the　arm　of　Mrs。　Phillips's　chair；　touched　lightly　with　her　hand　the　flaxen　hair　and　the　rouged　cheek。　　〃I　want　you　to　get　rid　of　all　this；〃　she　whispered。　　〃It　isn't　worthy　of　you。　　Leave　it　to　the　silly　dolls　and　the　bad　women。〃

There　was　a　long　silence。　　Joan　felt　the　tears　trickling　between　her　fingers。

〃You　haven't　seen　me；〃　came　at　last　in　a　thin；　broken　voice。

Joan　bent　down　and　kissed　her。　　〃Let's　try　it；〃　she　whispered。

A　little　choking　sound　was　the　only　answer。　　But　the　woman　rose　and；　Joan　following；　they　stole　upstairs　into　the　bedroom　and　Mrs。　Phillips　turned　the　key。

It　took　a　long　time；　and　Joan；　seated　on　the　bed；　remembered　a　night　when　she　had　taken　a　trapped　mouse　（if　only　he　had　been　a　quiet　mouse！）　into　the　bathroom　and　had　waited　while　it　drowned。　It　was　finished　at　last；　and　Mrs　Phillips　stood　revealed　with　her　hair　down；　showing　streaks　of　dingy　brown。

Joan　tried　to　enthuse；　but　the　words　came　haltingly。　　She　suggested　to　Joan　a　candle　that　some　wind　had　suddenly　blown　out。　　The　paint　and　powder　had　been　obvious；　but　at　least　it　had　given　her　the　mask　of　youth。　　She　looked　old　and　withered。　　The　life　seemed　to　have　gone　out　of　her。

〃You　see；　dear；　I　began　when　I　was　young；〃　she　explained；　〃and　he　has　always　seen　me　the　same。　　I　don't　think　I　could　live　like　this。〃

The　painted　doll　that　the　child　fancied！　the　paint　washed　off　and　the　golden　hair　all　turned　to　drab？　　Could　one　be　sure　of　〃getting　used　to　it；〃　of　〃liking　it　better？〃　　And　the　poor　bewildered　doll　itself！　　How　could　one　expect　to　make　of　it　a　statue：　　〃The　Woman　of　the　People。〃　　One　could　only　bruise　it。

It　ended　in　Joan's　promising　to　introduce　her　to　discreet　theatrical　friends　who　would　tell　her　of　cosmetics　less　injurious　to　the　skin；　and　advise　her　generally　in　the　ancient　and　proper　art　of　〃making　up。〃

It　was　not　the　end　she　had　looked　for。　　Joan　sighed　as　she　closed　her　door　behind　her。　　What　was　the　meaning　of　it？　　On　the　one　hand　that　unimpeachable　law；　the　greatest　happiness　of　the　greatest　number；　the　sacred　cause　of　Democracy；　the　moral　Uplift　of　the　people；　Sanity；　Wisdom；　Truth；　the　higher　Justice；　all　the　forces　on　which　she　was　relying　for　the　regeneration　of　the　worldall　arrayed　in　stern　demand　that　the　flabby；　useless　Mrs。　Phillips　should　be　sacrificed　for　the　general　good。　　Only　one　voice　had　pleaded　for　foolish；　helpless　Mrs。　Phillipsand　had　conquered。　The　still；　small　voice　of　Pity。



CHAPTER　X



Arthur　sprang　himself　upon　her　a　little　before　Christmas。　　He　was　full　of　a　great　project。　　It　was　that　she　and　her　father　should　spend　Christmas　with　his　people　at　Birmingham。　　Her　father　thought　he　would　like　to　see　his　brother；　they　had　not　often　met　of　late；　and　Birmingham　would　be　nearer　for　her　than　Liverpool。

Joan　had　no　intention　of　being　lured　into　the　Birmingham　parlour。　She　thought　she　could　see　in　it　a　scheme　for　her　gradual　entanglement。　　Besides；　she　was　highly　displeased。　　She　had　intended　asking　her　father　to　come　to　Brighton　with　her。　　As　a　matter　of　fact；　she　had　forgotten　all　about　Christmas；　and　the　idea　only　came　into　her　head　while　explaining　to　Arthur　how　his　impulsiveness　had　interfered　with　it。　　Arthur；　crestfallen；　suggested　telegrams。　　It　would　be　quite　easy　to　alter　everything；　and　of　course　her　father　would　rather　be　with　her；　wherever　it　was。　But　it　seemed　it　was　too　late。　　She　ought　to　have　been　consulted。　A　sudden　sense　of　proprietorship　in　her　father　came　to　her　assistance　and　added　pathos　to　her　indignation。　　Of　course；　now；　she　would　have　to　spend　Christmas　alone。　　She　was　far　too　busy　to　think　of　Birmingham。　　She　could　have　managed　Brighton。　　Argument　founded　on　th